tSMmm 


LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 
ANNETTE  DIMOCK 


it 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


'yhttpV/www.archive.org/details/atcornellOOengeiala 


At  QlnrnpU 


3n  Callpgp  l^rrrtnrta 


5ee    Page   50 


0«    >WA   «^^ 


At  Olnrn^U 


By 

®.  !•  Hon  iEngrltt 

Author  of  "An  Alaskan  Wonderplace, 
"On  Being  Abroad  In  Winter," 
Etc. 


dantt  liQ  W.  (g.  e-rljaeffpr 


PUBLISHERS 

Printf  b  by  ^\\t  Art  f  rpaa 


SYRACUSE,   N.  Y. 


6/A 


Copyright,  1909 

By  O.  D.  VON  Engeln  and 

D.  M.  DeBard 


At  Cornell 
Published  June,  1909 


Monotyped  and  Printed  by 

Hift  Art  l^ttBB 

SYRACUSE,   N.  Y. 


The  author  is  much  indebted  to  Professor  R.  S. 
Tarr,  President  Schurman  and  Joseph  P.  Harris 
of  the  University  for  criticism  and  kind  suggestions 
in  connection  with  the  manuscript. 

An  effort  has  been  made  to  avoid  using  hack- 
neyed "view  book"  illustrations;  and  what  success 
has  been  attained  in  this  respect  is  due  in  large 
part  to  the  kindness  of  Messrs.  G.  F.  Morgan  and 
Fred  Robinson,  photographers,  in  permitting  the 
use  of  their  unique  views  and  portraits. 

Thanks  are  also  due  the  publishers  of  Harper's 
Weekly  for  permission  to  reproduce  in  this  volume 
parts  of  an  article  originally  written  for  and  pub- 
lished in  that  periodical. 

The  Author. 


(HcnUntB 


Acknowledgements vii 

The  Typical  American  College 1 

The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter      .  11 

Up  and  Down  Central  Avenue 53 

Campus  Walks  and  Paths 67 

The  Founder — Ezra  Cornell 81 

Cornell  Historical  Interests        99 

The  Fiske  McGraw  Mansion  and  the  Chi  Psi  Fire  127 

Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country       .     .     .  143 

The  Waters  of  Cayuga 173 

In  Indian  Times 195 

Taughannock 211 

Watkins  Glen        229 

Wild  Flowers  Haunts  and  the  Seekers  of  Them  249 

Student  Life  of  Every  Day 263 

The  Working  Student  at  Cornell 289 

Winter  Sports  305 

Phases  of  the  Athletic  Life 315 

Customs  and  Traditions 329 


Hist  0f  JUuBtratt0ttB 


Title 

In  College  Precincts Frontispiece 

"A  Short  Cut  to  Learning"  on  the  Cornell 

Campus 

The  White  Gateway 

A  First  Glimpse  of  Cornell  from  the  Train 

Window 

The  Square  CascadilltA  Building 

The  Arch  of  the  Cascadilla  Bridge  and  the 

Falls  Below  It 

The  Armory 

The  Totem  Pole 

Sage  College  Tower 

Sage  Chapel  Entrance 

Sage  Chapel  Interior 

The  Unruffled  Reach  of  Lake  Cayuga 

The  Quadrangle  from  the  Library  Tower.  . 

McGraw  Hall 

The  View  Up  the  Valley 

Sibley  College 

Triphammer  Falls  and  Beebe  Lake 

Lincoln  Hall,  Through  the  Trees 

The  Portal  of  Goldwin  Smith  Hall 

New  York  State  College  of  Agriculture.  . 
Liberty  H.   Bailey,   Director  of  the  New 

York   State   College   of  Agriculture, 

at  Cornell  University 


'Photographer 

Page 

von  Engeln 

von  Engeln 

5 

von  Engeln 

12 

Todd 

13 

Morgan 

15 

von  Engeln 

16 

Head 

17 

Reid 

18 

Morgan 

20 

von  Engeln 

21 

Morgan 

23 

Head 

25 

von  Engeln 

26 

Morgan 

29 

Head 

33 

von  Engeln 

35 

Morgan 

37 

von  Engeln 

38 

von  Engeln 

39 

Morgan 

41 

Robinson 

45 

List  of  Illustrations — continued 

Title  PhotographtT        Page 

The  New  Approach  to  the  Quadrangle  ....  von  Engeln      49 

"Signs  of  the  Times" von  Engeln       55 

The  Mightiest  Surge  of  the  Year Morgan       58 

Upper  Central  Avenue von  Engeln       59 

When  the  Elm  Trees  are  Veils  of  Gray 

Mist von  Engeln       63 

GoLDWiN  Smith  Walk  in  Winter Morgan       68 

A    Waterfall    Ensconced    in    Ferns    and 

Shrubbery von  Engeln       69 

The  Cascadilla  Stream Morgan       71 

Forest  Home  Path  in  Autumn Morgan       73 

The  Prettiest  Waterfall  Near  the  Campus  Todd       75 

The  North  End  of  Beebe  Lake von  Engeln       76 

Ithaca  Falls  from  Above von  Engeln       77 

The  Founder — Ezra  Cornell 83 

The  Crest  of  Ithaca  Falls von  Engeln       88 

The  End  of  the  Tunnel 91 

The  Approach  of  Night — Cascadilla  Gorge  von  Engeln       96 
Andrew  D.  White,  First  President  of  the 

University Robinson     101 

Goldwin  Smith,  Professor  of  English  His- 
tory, Emeritus Alexander     105 

From  the  First  Cornell  Stunt  Book 109 

President  Jacob  Gould  Schurman Robinson     111 

Hiram  Corson,  Professor  of  English  Litera- 
ture, Emeritus Robinson     1 15 

Sage  College  Terrace Morgan     119 

The  Library — Sunset von  Engeln     121 

The  Fiske-McGraw  Mansion Morgan     129 

Interior  of  the  Mansion Morgan     133 

The  Work  of  Frost  in  Destroying  Rock — 

Six-Mile  Creek von  Engeln     147 

a  fossiliferous  rock  fragment  from  the 

Cornell  Campus 151 

Some     Fossils     from    the    Rocks    Around 

Cornell 157 


List  of  Illustrations — continued 

Title  Photographer  Page 
A  Glacial  Boulder  Deposited  Near  Cornell 

BY   the   Continental   Glacier.      Shows 

Glacial  Scratches 161 

A  Suggestion   of  the  Conditions   in   Lake 

Cayuga  at  the  Close   of  the   Glacial 

Period von  Engeln     163 

Where  Fall  Creek  Leaves  its  Old  Valley 

to  Cut  a  Rock  Gorge von  Engeln     166 

The  Rolling  Moraine  Hills  in  the  Inlet 

Valley von  Engeln     168 

The  Tumultuous  Pageant  of  Clouds von  Engeln     174 

Layer  After  Layer  of  Rock  Emerges  from 

the  Water von  Engeln     177 

End  of  a  Valley  Glacier Martin     180 

The   "Stone   Giants,"   as   Pictured    by   an 

Iroquois  Artist Cusick     183 

Moonlight  on  Cayuga  Lake Morgan     185 

Starting  for  a  Sail  on  Cayuga von  Engeln     190 

The  Territory  of  the  Iroquois 197 

Strings  of  Iroquois  Wampum •  199 

Typical  Bark  House  of  the  Iroquois. 201 

Taughannock  Falls von  Engeln     215 

Taughannock  Falls  Before  the  Change  in 

THE  Form  of  the  Crest 217 

Buttermilk  Gorge Morgan     219 

In  Enfield  Glen von  Engeln     223 

Where  the  Waters  Make  Long  Slides von  Engeln     233 

The  Cavern  Cascade von  Engeln     237 

The  Sylvan  Gorge Morgan     239 

The  Central  Cascade — A  Flume  Falls von  Engeln     242 

The  Silver  Threads  of  Rainbow  Falls von  Engeln     245 

The  Sunny  Slopes  of  the  Hills von  Engeln     250 

Where  the  Hepaticas  Flourish von  Engeln     252 

The  Autumn  Woods von  Engeln     253 

The  Dress  Parade  of  The  Trilliums von  Engeln     257 

The  Golden  Rods  Decked  With  Snow von  Engeln     260 


List  of  Illustrations — continued 

Title  Photographer        Pagt 

A  Campus  Vista von  Engeln     265 

A  Glimpse  of  Goldwin  Smith  Walk Berry     268 

A  Page  from  "The  Widow"  (on  the  Occa- 
sion OF  AN  Easter  Vacation) 269 

Entrance  to  the  Veterinary  College von  Engeln     272 

The  Library  Slope — Evening Morgan     275 

A  Week  in  the  University  Calendar 279 

Class  Day — Planting  the  Ivy Morgan     283 

The  Graduation  Procession Morgan     286 

On  a  Winter  Afternoon von  Engeln     290 

Cornell  Undergraduate  Publications 295 

A  Graduating  Class Robinson     299 

Central  Avenue — Winter Ingall     306 

An  "Ice  Carnival"  Group Todd-Morgan     309 

At  the  Toboggan  Slide — The  Waiting  Line  Morgan     311 

"Jack"  Moakley  at  the  Board  Track von  Engeln     316 

A  Happy  Occasion von  Engeln     318 

Courtney  and  the  Coxswains 319 

Courtney  at  Poughkeepsie 320 

Singing    The    Alma    Mater — Cornell-Har- 
vard Game,  1907 323 

Panorama  of  the  Freshman  Banquet  Rush.  Morgan     330 

Panorama  OF  the  Freshman  Banquet  Rush  .  Morgan     331 

The  Skirmish  Line Morgan     334 

A  Struggle von  Engeln     336 

A  Captive von  Engeln     337 

"Bill    Taft"    Heading    the    1909    "Frosh 

Peerade  " 338 

The  "Peerade"  OF  THE  Frosh Morgan     339 

Spring   Day   as  Celebrated   on  the   Quad- 
rangle   von  Engeln     341 

A  Spring  Day  Side  Show Morgan     343 

Spring  Day — The  Barker's  Stands Morgan     344 

At  the  Foot  of  the  Slide Morgan     345 

The  Senior  Singing Morgan     347 

xiv 


SII}^  ©aptral  Am^riran  fflnlUg^ 


®lj^  Sgpiral  Am^riran  Olnlbg^ 


^#N  a  recent  newspaper  article,*  entitled: — - 
J|l    "Working     Students      at      Harvard,"      there 

occurred  the  following  paragraph,  picturing 
the  arrival,  at  that  University,  of  a  freshman  from 
a  far  western  state,  and  presenting  him  inquiring 
of  the  bus-driver,  who  has  just  set  him  down,  "  Where 
is  Harvard?" 

"That's  Harvard,  right  over  there."  The 
slender  Westerner  thanked  him  "  kindly  "  and  entered 
the  yard  somewhat  bewildered  at  finding  Harvard 
a  composite  article  made  up  of  many  more  or  less 
insignificant  buildings,  crowded  in  by  commonplace 
streets.  He  had  expected  to  find  it  no  doubt  the 
typical  American  college,  a  few  imposing  edifices, 
surrounded  with  glorious  country,  a  great  campus 
and  the  Charles  River.  The  few  red  buildings, 
forming  a  rectangle,  looked  like  something  out  of 
the  ordinary,  it  is  true,  but  still  he  half  doubted 
the  transfer  man's  directions,  and  to  make  sure, 
he  hailed  the  first  man  who  looked  like  a  student 
with,  "Say,  is  this  Harvard?" 

♦New  York  Tribune,  March  24.  1907.     Page  4,  col.  5 


At  Cornell 

"The  typical  American  college,  a  few  imposing 
edifices,  surrounded  with  a  glorious  country,  a  great 
campus,  and  the  Charles  River."  The  characteriza- 
tion, you  will  agree,  is  so  complete  as  to  be  epigram- 
matic, for  in  its  few  phrases  it  includes  every  ideal. 
Yet  the  writer  impliedly  negatives  the  existence  of 
this  ideal  college,  and  therefore  we  must  perforce 
quarrel  with  him.  For  does  not  Cornell  fulfill  the 
every  requirement  of  that  description?  We  have 
more  than  a  few  imposing  edifices,  and  surely  we 
can  be  justly  proud  of  the  great  campus.  Again, 
instead  of  the  Charles  River  we  may  read,  with  even 
greater  enthusiasm,  fair  Cayuga  Lake.  The  glorious 
country  unrolls  itself  from  my  window  as  I  write, 
miles  and  miles  of  green,  sunkissed  hilltops  and 
dark  valleys,  gloomed  by  tall  evergreens.  The  sum 
is  complete.  Cornell  can  justly  lay  claim  to  be  the 
typical  American  college.  More  than  this  she  is 
the  only  one  which  in  all  this  broad  land  can  satisfy 
all  these  ideals — and  add  to  them.  If  other  colleges 
meet  some,  they  do  it  inadequately. 

Yet  despite  this  preeminent  position,  we  Cor- 
nellians,  curiously  enough,  have  been  so  jealous  of 
her  that  we  have  not  let  the  world  see  too.  Her 
fame  is  that  which  has  been  grudgingly  accorded 
her  because  of  the  victories  of  her  athletic  teams,  her 
great  alumni,  her  engineers  and  scholars.  This 
earned  praise  we  modestly  accept,  but  of  the  rest 
which  is  due  we  say  nothing.  So  little  has  been 
written  of  the  real,  the  inspiring  Cornell.      In  one 


The  Typical  American  College 

book  there  are  only  a  few  pictures  with  no  accom- 
panying description;  and,  although  this  is  the  day 
of  illustration,  when  it  is  often  preached  that  one 
picture  tells  the  story  of  a  chapter  of  prose;  yet, 
without  the  imagery  of  words  the  pictures  are 
meaningless.  My  excuse  in  venturing  to  supply 
those  which  follow  is  that  no  one  more  competent 
has  put  pen  to  paper — and,  that  the  attempt  has 
long  been  due  her  who, 

Far  above  Cayuga's  water 

With  its  waves  of  blue, 
Stands:     Our  noble  Alma  Mater 

Glorious  to  view! 

Perhaps  the  most  eloquent  reason  which  has 
deterred  more  competent  writers  from  attempting 
to  put  Cornell  before  the  world  is  her  mutability. 
I  remember  vividly,  in  connection  with  this  point 
of  view,  my  wonder,  when  first  studying  history, 
at  reading  of  a  country  ravaged  and  harried  by  war 
and  famine;  its  people  all  but  destroyed — in  one 
paragraph;  and  then  finding  them  described  in  the 
next  breath,  as  it  were,  the  time  only  a  hundred 
years  later,  as  enjoying  the  most  abundant  pros- 
perity, and  their  land  a  very  hive  of  industry  and 
the  place  of  palatial  cities.  This  was  perhaps  due 
to  the  finiteness  and  the  false  perspective  of  the 
elementary  world  history,  in  whose  pages  a  hundred 
years  are  verily  but  as  a  day.  Nevertheless  we  have 
the  moral:  In  America  we  are  still  young,  very 
young,  and  of  this  youth  the  colleges  partake.    Thus 


At  Cornell 

in  the  West  they  consist  of  characterless  brick  build- 
ings, with  gravel  driveways,  sapling  trees,  and  an 
air  of  'don't  walk  on  the  grass'  writ  large  over 
the  whole  campus.  In  the  East — well,  we  have  the 
freshman's  impression  of  Harvard,  its  growth  hem- 
med in  by  the  more  rapid  industrial  development 
of  its  surroundings.  Yet  the  typical  American  col- 
lege has  passed  the  first  stage,  and  fortunately 
escaped  the  second ;  thus  Cornell  is  neither  a  sapling, 
nor  yet  a  girdled  tree — she  has  traditions,  but  she 
is  still  growing.  If  then  freshmen,  you  find  in  these 
pages  history,  instead  of  reality,  you  may  know 
that  the  dawn  of  still  another  tomorrow  has  come 
to  Cornell  since  the  writing  of  this  book. 

With  this  conception  of  the  ideal  in  an  American 
college,  I  can  not  find  myself  in  sympathy  with  the 
American  professor,  happily  not  of  Cornell,  who 
mourns  for  the  moss-grown  picturesqueness  of  the 
continental  institutions.  In  a  magazine  article  this 
man  quotes  from  Mr.  Benson's  essays:  "From  A 
College  Window,"  as  follows:  "My  room  looks  out 
into  a  little  court,  there  is  a  plot  of  grass,  and  to 
the  right  of  it  an  old  stone-built  wall,  close  against 
which  stands  a  row  of  aged  lime-trees.  Straight 
opposite,  at  right  angles  to  the  wall,  is  the  east  side 
of  the  Hall,  with  its  big  traceried  windows  enlivened 
with  a  few  heraldic  shields  of  stained  glass.  While 
I  was  looking  out  today,  there  came  a  flying  burst 
of  sun,  and  the  little  corner  became  a  sudden  feast 
of  delicate  color ;   the  rich  green  of  the  grass,  the 


........ 

^H^^'^t''^'^^^  ' 

1 

gm 

Wfir^^Mk-^ 

I 

■ 

K 

IK?  • 

HP'"' 

M 

^ 

5i- 

^ 

%. 

-        - 

^ 

1 

-   •     r»'? 

m 

■-^>Sv 

^^^^^^^S^^^^N 

^^ 

■i  ^^5 

^^H 

IV 

■ 

■  A^       ' 

jl 

^^^^^^^|r:   '                          -^^^^^^1 

■  ,4tSL.  H^j 

^KT" 

^                 ,     ;             5 

If^ 

9  _ 

1-2 
(ft  wi 

<  2 


The  Typical  American  College 

foliage  of  the  lime-trees,  their  brown  wrinkled  stems, 
the  pale  moss  on  the  walls,  the  bright  points  of  color 
in  the  emblazonries  of  the  window,  made  a  sudden 
delicate  harmony  of  tints.  I  had  seen  the  place  a 
hundred  times  before  without  ever  guessing  what  a 
perfect  picture  it  made.  Inside  the  porter  sat  in 
his  comfortable  den  with  his  feet  on  the  fender, 
reading  a  paper " 

After  this  quotation,  the  American  professor 
bemoans  his  fate  because  he  finds  that  from  his 
office  window  at  the  University:  "The  outlook 
is  pleasing  but  lacks  inspiration.  The  grass  is  green 
enough,  when  not  wholly  worn  shabby  by  students 
seeking  a  short  cut  to  learning.  The  American  elms 
rival  the  English  lime-trees,  the  sun  is  brighter,  the 
sky  bluer  than  across  the  waters.  But  there  is  no 
den,  no  porter!  The  roller  top  desk,  the  typewriter 
stand,  the  filing  cabinet  greet  me  with  a  business- 
like air."  And  so  on.  But  why?  If  he  can  not  find 
inspiration  in  the  brighter  sun,  the  bluer  sky,  and 
the  graceful  American  elms,  which  not  only  rival 
but  fairly  outrival  the  English  limes;  let  the  fates 
help  him,  he  is  not  an  American. 

But  be  all  this  as  it  may;  Cornell  is  today  the 
typical  American  college,  even  the  detail  of  the 
'short  cut  to  learning'  which  the  professor  so  much 
deplores,  is  not  lacking.  More  than  that,  keeping 
pace  with  the  progress  of  the  American  people, 
Cornell  is  broadly  cosmopolitan ;  her  students 
number   representatives  from  almost  every  nation 


At  Cornell 

in  the  world.  And  in  herself  and  her  setting,  her 
life  and  activities,  her  customs  and  traditions, 
we  have  a  fount  of  inspiration  for  the  American 
people. 


Ollfaptpr 


^HE  nature  lover,  and  indeed  anyone  in  whom 
IL    is  not  lost  a  sense  of  the  eternal  fitness  of 


® 


things,  could  scarcely  dream  of  a  more  appro- 
priate location  for  a  university  than  that  which  is 
Cornell's.  When  the  founder,  Ezra  Cornell,  fixed 
upon  the  height  above  the  southeast  end  of  Lake 
Cayuga  as  the  site  for  the  new  university,  he  was, 
no  doubt,  moved  in  his  choice  by  such  a  feeling  of 
the  entire  adequateness  of  the  place — and  today 
the  Cornell  Campus  is  everywhere  acknowledged 
the  most  beautiful  in  America. 

Situated  where  she  commands  a  broad  outlook 
over  all  the  world  about — the  long  line  of  hills 
across  the  valley  to  the  west,  the  blue  reach  of  the 
lake  for  miles  to  the  north,  and  the  green  slopes 
and  bottoms  of  its  tributary  stream  valleys  to  the 
south  and  east — Cornell  by  virtue  of  her  very 
position  becomes  at  once  a  beacon  tower  and  a 
citadel  of  our  civilization.  Nestling  at  her  feet, 
and  spreading  down  the  hillside  and  across  the 
flat  floor  of  the  valley  below,  is  the  town  of  Ithaca. 

11 


At  Cortiell 


If  one  comes  into  Ithaca  from  the  east  on  the 
Lackawanna  railroad,  or  from  the  west  on  the 
Lehigh,  the  trains  in  each  case  abruptly  descend 
nearly  four  hundred  feet  to  the  valley  floor.  Coming 
over  the  Lehigh  from  the  west  one  gets  the  best 
first-glimpse  of  the  gray  towers,  and  the  red  tiled 
roofs  of  Cornell,  as  they  peep  out  from  between 
the  green  tree  tops  of  the  forest  on  the  summit  of 
the  hill  to  the  east,  opposite.  On  the  other  hand, 
coming  from  the  east  and  south,  over  the  Lacka- 
wanna, one  gets  a  better  appreciation  of  the  com- 
manding position  of  the  University,  overlooking, 
as  one  does  from  the  car  window,  the  whole  town 
and  the  blue  lake  to  the  north  while  one  is  descend- 
ing into  the  valley  by  much  switching  and  backing 
over  the  broad  "Z"  in  the  course  of  this  railway, 
necessitated  by  the  steep  grade. 


12 


IS 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

Undoubtedly  the  best  place  to  enter  the  Campus 
on  a  first  sight-seeing  visit  is  through  the  White 
Gateway  at  the  head  of  Eddy  street.  This  is 
reached  directly  by  the  Eddy  street  car  from  down 
town,  and  also,  after  completing  the  loop  ride,  by 
alighting  at  Eddy  street  from  the  Stewart  avenue 
car.  Imagine  then  that  we  are  starting  from  the 
White  Gateway  to  see  the  Campus. 

Over  the  gateway  is  the  University  seal  and 
its  motto,  expressing  in  his  own  words  Ezra  Cornell's 
ideal  of  the  University's  purpose,  from  the  date  of 
its  inception:  "I  would  found  an  institution  where 
any  person  can  find  instruction  in  any  study."  The 
sentiment  which  the  donor.   President  White,  has 


elir  isiquare  (EaarabtUa  Sutl&tng 
15 


At  Cornell 


engraved  on  the  west 
entrance  of  the  gate- 
way is  also  worthy  of 
note: 

"So  enter  that 
daily  thou  mayest  be- 
come more  learned  and 
thoughtful, 

So  depart  that 
daily  thou  mayest  be- 
come more  useful  to 
thy  country  and  to 
mankind." 

Passing  through 
the  gate,  and  uphill 
along  the  walk  which 
follows  the  gorge  of 
Cascadilla  stream,  one  has  on  the  right  the  massive, 
square,  stone  pile  of  the  Cascadilla  Building;  the 
first  building  owned  by  the  University.  At  the 
opening  of  the  school  it  contained  the  Registrar's 
and  the  Faculty  offices,  besides  recitation  and  stu- 
dent living  rooms.  It  is  now  wholly  given  over 
to  dormitory  purposes. 

Turning  abruptly  a  little  above  this  building, 
we  face  about  for  a  second  glimpse  of  its  front, 
and  then  cross  the  stone  arch  bridge  over  Cascadilla 
Stream.  Over  the  parapet  of  this  bridge  one  peers 
down  with  delight  at  the  rushing  white  of  the  fall, 
one    hundred    feet    below,    known  as   the  Giant's 


ailjp  Arrlj  0f  tlir  CaaraliiUa  Sri&gf 
and  lift  i^alls  brloui  it 


16 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 


Staircase ;  and  then  down  the  length  of  the  gorge  for 
the  vista  far  across  the  Cayuga  Valley  to  its  distant 
western  side.  Starting  again,  we  go  on  up  Central 
avenue,  passing  first  on  the  right  the  Kappa  Alpha 
fraternity  house,  and  directly  opposite  on  the  left,  the 
Psi  Upsilon  house,  embowered  among  tall  pines. 

At  the  crest  of  the  rise  we  gain  on  our  left  a 
distant  glimpse  of  Cayuga  Lake,  with  the  broad 
lawn  and  the  lodge  of  the  Sigma  Phi  fraternity  in 
the  foreground.  Just  across  the  road  is  the  red  brick 
Armory,  and  attached  to  it  the  gymnasium,  a 
paltry  affair,  utterly 
inadequate  to  the  pres- 
ent needs  of  the  Uni- 
versity, although  at  its 
building  it  was  the 
best  equipped  college 
gymnasium  in  the 
country.  On  the  walls 
of  its  entrance  stair- 
way is  hung  a  gallery 
of  Cornell's  unconquer- 
able crews.  Behind 
the  gymnasium,  in 
the  hollow,  is  the  Uni- 
versity heating  plant, 
recently  enlarged  and 
reconstructed  to  meet 
the  increased  needs  of 

the  school.  ®l,f  ArmorH 


17 


At  Cornell 


The  University  owes  part  of  its  endowment  to 
land  grants  made  by  Congress  under  the  Morrill 
Act;  and,  pursuant  to  the  provisions  of  this,  under- 
graduates, with  certain  exceptions,  are  required  to 
take  two  years  of  instruction  in  military  tactics, 
under  an  officer  of  the  United  States  Army.  The 
broad  sweep  of  lawn  on  the  left  of  the  avenue 
and  north  of  the  Armory  is  the  drill  ground.  It 
is  also  the  scene  of  the  Freshman  Banquet  Rush 
and  the  annual  Spring  Day  show,  two  of  the  most 
amusing  of  Cornell  student  customs. 

At  the  rear  of  the  Arm- 
ory and  a  little  to  the  north, 
stands  the  Totem  Pole, 
brought  from  Alaska  by  Pro- 
fessor Femow,  who  accom- 
panied the  famous  Harriman 
Expedition  to  that  country. 
These  poles  are  to  the  Alaskan 
Indian  what  a  coat  of  arms  is 
to  a  European  family.  The 
erection  of  this  particular 
specimen  on  the  Cornell 
Campus  was  preceded  by  an 
interesting  chain  of  occur- 
rences connected  with  its 
securing.  It  seems  that  the 
Harriman  Expedition  got 
word  of  a  deserted  Thlinket 
Indian  village,  said  to  contain  aiije  jiattm  Voie 


18 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

a  great  number  of  these  totem  poles,  and  to  be 
situated  on  Cape  Fox.  They  readily  located  it;  and 
immediately  all  the  professors  from  other  Univer- 
sities who  were  members  of  the  expedition,  set  to 
work  to  secure  one  of  a  small  type  of  poles  which 
the  Indians  kept  indoors.  Professor  Fernow  had 
scruples  about  taking  the  totems,  moreover,  he  was 
not  sure  that  Cornell  wanted  one.  So  it  was  not 
until  some  of  the  others  vaunted  of  their  prowess 
in  getting  down  to  the  ship  some  unusually  large 
specimens  of  the  indoor  type,  working  in  pairs,  that 
he  essayed  the  same  task  single  handed.  Having 
some  knowledge  of  mechanics,  as  he  modestly  puts 
it,  he  easily  succeeded  in  this,  and  then  attempted 
the  removal  of  the  large  pole  now  on  the  Campus. 
At  this  task  the  ship's  company  helped  him,  with 
their  tackle,  at  a  critical  moment,  else  he  might 
have  been  discomfited.  Having  to  choose  between 
the  two  poles,  he  fixed  on  the  larger  weather- 
beaten  one,  and  thus  Cornell  was  the  first  University 
to  secure  a  '  full-grown '  specimen  of  the  Alaskan 
totem  pole. 

Retracing  our  steps  back  to  Central  avenue, 
we  next  cross  South  avenue,  and  come  then 
to  Sage  Cottage,  the  smaller  of  the  women's 
dormitories.  Sage  College,  across  the  lawn  to  the 
right,  is  the  other  and  larger,  women's  dormitory; 
but  the  Botany  department  is  also  housed  in  this 
building  and  has  its  conservatories  attached  as 
a    wing.       In   the    cornerstone    of    Sage     College, 

19 


At  Cornell 


Ezra  Cornell  de- 
posited a  mys- 
terious letter,  of 
which  only  he 
knew  the  con- 
tents, saying  in 
the  closing  re- 
marks of  his 
speech  at  the 
laying  of  the 
stone:  "The  let- 
ter, of  which  I 
have  kept  no 
copy,  will  relate 
to  future  gener- 
ations the  cause 
of  the  failure 
of  this  experi- 
ment, if  it  ever 
does  fail,  as  I 
trust  God  it 
never  will."  Cor- 
nell, it  will  be 
remembered,  was 
one  of  the  first 
schools  in  which  co-education  was  introduced. 
Continuing  up  Central  avenue,  we  pass  on 
the  left,  a  row  of  professors'  cottages,  which  extends 
to  the  Library  tower;  but  opposite  the  cottages, 
on  the  right,  is  Barnes  Hall,  the  home  of  the  Chris- 


i&age  OJnllrgr  iLamer 


20 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 


S>a0]?  Ci|a|ipl  lEntranrr 

tian  Association.  In  it  we  will  find  the  trophy  room, 
containing  a  number  of  the  various  banners,  cups 
and  emblems,  which  proclaim  Cornell's  victories  in 
athletics  and  debate.  Here  an  interesting  half  hour 
may  be  spent;  but  the  rather  inadequate  manner 
in  which  the  collection  is  displayed  is  to  be  regretted, 
and  detracts  much  from  its  appeal. 

Just  beyond  Barnes  Hall,  also  on  the  right,  is 
Sage  Chapel.  In  the  Memorial  Chapel  of  this  are 
interred  the  Founder  and  his  wife ;  John  McGraw  and 
Jennie  McGraw  Fiske,  his  daughter;  both  the  latter 
being  notable  benefactors  of  the  University.  In  the 
Sage  Memorial  Apse  are  interred  the  mortal  remains 
of  Henry  W.  Sage  and  his  wife,  after  whom  the  Chapel 
is  named,  and  whose  gift  it  was  to  the  University. 

The  interior  decorations  of  the  Chapel  are  the 
subject   of   much   comment.      They   include   many 


21 


At  Cornell 

memorial  windows  (notably  the  ones  placed  last, 
those  commemorating  the  victims  of  the  Chi  Psi 
fire,  the  burning  of  the  famous  McGraw-Fiske  man- 
sion), whose  brilliant  coloring  contrasts  strongly 
with  the  more  somber  decorations  of  the  roof, 
though  this  is  also  illuminated  by  glorious  splashes 
of  color.  Of  the  decoration  as  a  whole,  it  has  been 
said  that  "it  is  rich  in  its  suggest iveness  of  the 
centuries  of  Christian  tradition,  harmonious  in  its 
coloring,  and  entirely  appropriate  in  its  design  and 
execution,"  and  the  Chapel  is  now  pronounced 
generally  to  be  one  of  the  most  beautiful  places  of 
worship  in  America.  There  are  but  few  examples 
of  mosaics  to  be  found  in  the  United  States  which 
rival,  in  either  size  or  merit,  those  in  the  Memorial 
Apse. 

Painted  on  the  brown  ground  of  the  center  of 
each  of  the  sloping  panels  of  the  roof  are  ecclesias- 
tical emblems  on  canvases  of  quatrefoil  shape; 
namely,  "the  temple,  the  ship  on  the  wave,  and 
the  ship  and  the  pennant — all  symbols  of  the  church ; 
the  anchor,  which  is  a  symbol  of  hope  and  patience; 
the  lamp,  of  piety  and  wisdom;  the  lamb  and  pen- 
nant, of  the  Redeemer;  the  cross,  of  the  redemp- 
tion; the  interwoven  triangles,  of  the  Trinity;  the 
lion,  symbol  of  the  Tribe  of  Judah;  the  open  book 
with  a  hand  pointing  to  the  Beatitudes,  symbol 
of  the  Gospels;  the  sword  and  the  palm,  of  martyr- 
dom and  victory;  the  chalice,  of  faith;  the  flaming 
heart,  of  fervent  piety  and  love;    the  standard,  the 

22 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

wreath  and  the  crown,  symbols  of  victory  over  evil; 
the  sun,  stars  and  the  crescent  moon;  of  the  lumi- 
nous nebula  which  emanates  from  and  surrounds 
the  Divine  Essence;  and  finally  the  burning  bush, 
symbol  of  the  religious  fervor  of  the  martyrs." 

Cornell  students  are  not  required  to  attend 
chapel  at  any  time,  nevertheless  the  building  is 
generally  crowded  beyond  its  capacity  every  Sun- 
day, and  at  both  services,  the  one  in  the  afternoon 
being  principally  musical.  Before  the  doors  are 
opened  one  may  often  see  the  curious  spectacle  of 


23 


At  Cornell 

a  long  waiting  line  before  a  church,  and  standing 
room  only  is  often  the  order  of  the  day.  There  are 
reasons  for  this.  The  congestion  is  partly  due  to 
the  attendance  of  the  townspeople,  who,  however, 
must  wait  until  five  minutes  after  the  hour  before 
being  admitted.  But  the  more  potent  reason  for 
the  large  attendance  is  the  list  of  notabilities  of 
all  creeds,  who,  on  succeeding  Sundays,  fill  the 
pulpit.  Of  those  who  have  been  heard  there  in 
recent  years  are  the  Rev.  Lyman  Abbott,  Edward 
Everett  Hale,  Hugh  Black,  Dr.  Henry  VanDyke, 
Robert  Collier,  and  others  of  equal  renown. 

Emerging  from  the  dim  aisles  of  the  Chapel, 
we  stand  at  the  foot  of  the  great  square  tower  of 
the  Library, -from  whose  spire  the  chimes  ring  forth 
their  merry  peal  every  morning,  noon  and  night. 
These  chimes  are  one  of  the  first  gifts  of  a  senti- 
mental character  which  the  University  received; 
and  were  presented  by  Miss  Jennie  McGraw  in 
1868.  On  the  great  bell  which  strikes  the  hours  is 
inscribed  this  stanza,  composed  for  it  by  Professor 
James  Russell  Lowell,  one  of  the  University  faculty 
at  the  time  of  its  founding: 

"  I  call  as  fly  the  irrevocable  hours. 
Futile  as  air,  or  strong  as  fate  to  make 

Your  lives  of  sand  or  granite,  awful  powers ; 
Even  as  men  choose  they  either  give  or  take." 

Before  continuing  farther  we  can  not  do  better 
than  climb  to  the  top  of  the  tower  (obtaining  the 
key  to  the  door  at  the  librarian's  desk),  and,  after 

24 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 


sit;?  Unrufflrd  Krari;  of  ICak?  QIat]uga 

taking  a  peep  at  the  mechanism  of  the  great  clock, 
clamber  up  the  spiral  stairway  to  the  highest  plat- 
form. From  that  lordly  vantage  point  we  may 
make  a  comprehensive  survey  of  our  surroundings. 
To  the  west  spreads  the  broad  plain  of  the  Inlet 
delta,  rimmed  on  its  far  side  by  the  long  ridge  of 
West  Hill.  The  projecting  spur  of  South  Hill  is 
the  valley  boundary  to  the  south,  as  is  East  Hill  to 
the  east.  The  East  Hill  comprises  the  highland  on 
which  the  University  is  located,  and  it  falls  away 
southward  to  the  Six  Mile  valley,  and  is  cut  to  the 
southeast  by  the  broad  shallow  trough  of  the  Casca- 
dilla  valley.  Directly  to  the  east  of  the  University 
the  land  is  higher  than  the  Campus,  but  it  remains 
nearly  the   same   level   to   the  northeast.     To   the 


25 


At  Cornell 


Ull?r  (^uadranglr  from  tift  ICibrary  Wavuev 

north,  the  most  beautiful  outlook  of  all,  one  surveys 
the  unruffled  reach  of  Lake  Cayuga  stretching  away 
as  far  as  the  angle  of  the  bend  at  Crowbar  Point 
permits  one  to  see.  Beyond  that  there  are  indica- 
tions of  its  extension  in  the  slope  of  the  hills,  but 
the  blue  of  the  water  is  hidden.  The  reach  from 
the  mouth  of  the  Inlet,  marked  by  the  lighthouse, 
to  Crowbar  Point  is  the  stretch  used  by  the  Cornell 
crews  during  their  training.  Directly  below  us  is 
spread  forth  the  great  quadrangle  of  the  Campus. 

Now  having  gained  our  bearings  anew,  we  may 
recommence  our  tour  with  a  visit  to  the  Library. 
The  inscriptions  on  the  bronze  tablet  in  the  doorway 
hint  a  curious  story.  A  few  words  will  suffice  to 
explain,  without  attempting  to  consider  the  right 


26 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

or  wrong  of  the  actors.  It  was  the  will  of  Jennie 
McGraw  Fiske  that  after  her  death  a  large  part  of 
her  fortune  should  come  into  the  coffers  of  the  Uni- 
versity; especially  to  endow  a  library.  This  will 
was  contested,  and  her  immediate  purpose  was 
defeated  when  Cornell  lost  the  suit;  but  it  was  in 
a  way  fulfilled  by  the  gift  of  her  friend  Henry  W. 
Sage,  and  to  this  gift  the  inscriptions  refer. 

The  collection  of  medieval  illuminated  manu- 
scripts and  specimens  of  early  printing,  in  the 
entrance  halls,  always  attracts  attention;  and  the 
walls  of  the  big  reading  rooms  are  hung  with  the 
portraits  of  great  lecturers.  Especially  notable  is 
a  life  portrait  of  the  founder,  Ezra  Cornell.  In  the 
north  wing  of  the  Library  is  housed  the  White 
Historical  Library,  a  wonderful  collection  of  books; 
and  here  are  also  on  exhibition  many  interesting 
relics  connected  with  the  history  of  the  University. 
Other  interesting  and  valuable  collections  of  books 
are  the  Dante,  Petrarch  and  Icelandic  libraries, 
recently  acquired  by  the  University. 

In  the  main  library  are  some  three  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  volumes,  to  which  large  addi- 
tions are  being  made  yearly.  The  reference  library 
of  about  eight  thousand  volumes  is  arranged  on  the 
shelves  of  the  main  reading  room,  which  seats  some 
two  hundred  and  twenty  readers,  and  are  thus 
accessible  to  any  student;  while  the  rest  of  the 
volumes  are  stored  in  the  fireproof  stacks  in  the 
south  and  west  wings  of  the  Library  building.     A 

27 


At  Cornell 

visit  to  these  stacks  is  well  worth  while  to  anyone 
interested  in  books,  as  their  construction  is  wholly 
of  glass,  iron  and  stone,  affording  no  opportunity 
for  the  spread  of  the  flames;  thus  safe-guarding 
this  great  storehouse  of  human  knowledge. 

Leaving  the  Library  and  going  still  northward 
now  along  Central  avenue,  one  passes  in  succession 
Morrill,  McGraw  and  White  Halls.  These  are  the 
oldest  buildings  on  the  Campus,  and  from  their 
shape  and  similarity  they  have  not  inappropriately 
been  called  the  "three  caskets."  This  resemblance 
is  partly  due  to  the  fact  that  the  University,  as 
originally  planned,  was  to  face  the  west;  and  these 
first  three  buildings  all  have  the  ornateness  of  their 
fronts  facing  the  long  slope  of  the  valley,  while 
their  square  backs  are  ranged  along  Central  avenue. 

In  Morrill,  the  first  building  erected  by  the 
University  (with  stone  quarried  on  the  Campus), 
are  the  University  offices,  including  those  of  the 
Registrar,  an  official  who  is  well  versed  in  all  that 
pertains  to  the  institution,  and  who  is  glad  to  dis- 
pense information  when  he  is  not  too  busy.  On  the 
upper  floors  of  Morrill  is  the  laboratory  of  Experi- 
mental Psychology,  worthy  of  a  visit  by  those 
interested  in  this  science.  McGraw,  which  is  next 
in  line,  contains  the  departments  of  Physiography, 
Geology  and  Zoology.  Entering  first  the  south  door 
of  the  building,  one  sees  mounted  on  the  wall  a 
huge  slab  of  Triassic  Connecticut  sandstone  with 
gigantic  fossil  foot  imprints  of  the  three-toed  Bron- 

28 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

tozouin  Giganteum  (terrible  lizard)  —  one  of  the 
great  biped  reptiles  of  Mesozoic  Time,  an  age  whose 
remoteness  is  measured  by  perhaps  a  million  years. 
In  one  of  these  foot  prints  even  the  delicate  mold 
of  the  beast's  scales  can  be  clearly  seen,  preserved 
throughout  all  the  ages  which  have  since  passed. 

On  the  second  floor  of  McGraw,  south  entrance, 
is  the.  laboratory  of  the  department  of  Physical 
Geography,  replete  with  maps,  relief  models  and 
pictures  of  all  the  phenomena  of  the  earth's  surface 
configuration.  It  is  said  to  be  the  most  complete 
laboratory   for    Physical   Geography   study    in   the 


« 

i^^^n^^^^^B 

■Ml'' '' 

PW  *i<*inH^M        JB^^E^m^^BI 

- 

H^^Bll 

^^n 

IS 

1^5,  VisS^ii;  1^ 

1 

"^^as^ 

■*"- 

K- 

^ 

iJtrCiraui  l^aU 
29 


At  Cornell 

country.  A  collection  of  Alaskan  Glacier  pictures 
forms  a  gallery  in  the  upper  hallway. 

On  the  first  floor,  middle  entrance  of  McGraw, 
and  passing  through  the  first  door  to  the  left,  one 
finds  the  Silliman  collection  of  mineral  specimens, 
with  recent  additions,  handsomely  displayed  in  a 
number  of  cases.  If  you  have  invested  money  in 
mining  stocks  it  will  interest  you  to  peer  over  the 
collection  and  note  the  ores  of  the  metal  for  which 
you  are  helping  to  delve.  Indeed,  the  beauty  of 
these  specimens  makes  them  attractive  to  anyone. 
Of  especial  interest  to  all  visitors  is  the  Museimi 
of  Natural  History  on  the  second  floor,  middle 
entrance  of  McGraw  Hall.  This  is  connected  with 
the  department  of  Zoology.  The  Museum  com- 
prises some  very  noteworthy  specimens  but  in  very 
shabby  quarters.  The  morbid  person,  who  likes  to 
see  monstrosities,  may  find  an  attraction  here  in 
the  shape  of  three  legged  and  two  headed  calves, 
and  other  abnormal  variations  in  animal  life.  Here 
is  also  an  Egyptian  mummy,  divested  of  all  its 
wrappings,  enabling  one  to  see  the  form  and  features 
of  a  man  who  lived  his  mortal  span  thousands  of 
years  ago.  In  the  gallery  above  the  main  floor  of 
the  Museum  is  a  very  complete  collection  of  shells 
from  all  parts  of  the  world. 

In  White  Hall  are  found  the  College  of  Architec- 
ture and  the  recitation  rooms  of  the  Mathematics 
department.  Here  we  may  pause  for  a  moment  to 
clear  up  a  possible  misconception.     Although  the 

30 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

College  of  Architecture,  as  such,  only  occupies  part 
of  White,  the  activities  of  its  students  are  by  no 
means  restricted  to  these  quarters.  On  the.  con- 
trary, they  go  to  classes  and  laboratories  in  several 
of  the  other  colleges,  wherever  it  may  happen,  in 
accordance  with  University  economy,  that  instruc- 
tion in  the  subject  can  best  be  given.  For  example, 
if  the  majority  of  students  in  Civil  Engineering  must 
use  a  certain  laboratory,  whereas  only  a  small  pro- 
portion of  Architecture  students  do,  then  the  labo- 
ratory is  to  be  found  as  a  rule  in  the  Civil  Engineer's 
quarters.  The  same  arrangement  applies  to  other 
colleges.  The  drawing  rooms  of  the  College  of 
Architecture,  which  are  in  White,  are  models  of 
convenience,  and  are  worthy  of  a  climb  to  any  one 
interested,  especially  as  there  is  almost  always  a 
collection  of  art  and  architectural  sketches  posted 
on  the  walls  of  the  display  rooms  adjoining. 

Beyond  White  the  Central  avenue  walk  termi- 
nates in  front  of  Franklin  Hall,  the  headquarters 
of  the  Department  of  Electrical  Engineering.  This 
building  is  adorned  by  a  frieze  of  medallions  of 
famous  scientists.  The  cross  street  from  the  west, 
which  has  its  terminus  here,  is  University  avenue, 
and  on  it,  just  beyond  Franklin  Hall,  is  Morse  Hall, 
a  building  devoted  wholly  to  the  uses  of  the  Chemis- 
try department.  With  possibly  one  exception,  this 
is  tjie  most  completely  and  elaborately  equipped 
department  on  the  Campus,  of  those  connected  with 
the  College  of  Arts  and  Sciences. 

31 


At  Cornell 

An  inspection  of  the  laboratories,  with  their 
complete  equipment  of  desks  with  gas,  water  and 
compressed  air  cocks,  available  to  each  worker,  is 
well  worth  while;  as  are  also  the  lecture  room  fit- 
tings. The  lecturer's  desk  is  a  veritable  maze  of 
stop-cocks  and  switches  for  supplying  various  gases 
and  electrical  currents  of  all  intensities,  making  the 
demonstration  of  almost  any  chemical  experiment 
feasible  in  full  view  of  all  the  class.  Visitors  are 
privileged  to  attend  single  lectures  of  the  University 
courses  if  they  enter  without  disturbing  classes  at 
the  regular  periods;  and  the  lectures  in  Elementary 
Chemistry  often  have  a  spectacular  interest. 

In  the  north  wing  of  the  second  floor  of  Morse 
Hall  is  the  Chemical  Museum,  where  are  exhibited 
jars  of  hundreds  of  chemical  compounds  in  crystal 
form — many  of  them  very  rare.  The  visitor  can 
see  "how  it  looks,"  but  of  its  properties  this  will 
tell  him  little.  The  assay,  combustion  and  electrical 
furnace  rooms  are  in  the  basement  of  this  wing, 
and  are  also  deserving  of  a  visit. 

The  view  up  the  valley,  from  the  entrance  to 
Morse,  of  itself  commands  the  attention.  Below  is 
spread  the  wide  valley  floor,  and  beyond,  in  a  broad 
perspective,  are  the  lines  of  the  hills  with  their 
varied  configuration,  and  the  play  of  the  light  and 
shade  on  their  slopes  as  the  cloud  forms  hurry  in 
procession  before  the  sun.  It  is  an  outlook  which 
stirs  within  us  the  desire  to  wander  over  their  sides 
to  the  far  distant  notches,  and  look  at  the  great 

32 


» 


». 

^ 


JSr 


The  Cornell  Campus — A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

world  which,  it  seems,  must  he  beyond,  all  out- 
spread. Can  one  wonder,  when  gazing  on  such  a 
scene,  at  the  trend  of  primitive  peoples,  valley  bom, 
to  picture  in  imagination  the  lands  beyond  the  hills 
as  the  realm  of  myths;  a  fancy  world  wherein 
dwelt  all  that  to  them  was  strange  and  unaccount- 
able? 

Down  the  slope,  to  the  west  of  this  vantage 
point,  is  the  terrace  where  stood  the  famous  Fiske- 
McGraw  mansion,  afterwards  the  Chi  Psi  fraternity 
house,  whose  destruction  by  fire,  with  a  loss  of 
seven  lives,  marks  at  once  one  of  the  greatest  trage- 
dies and  the  brightest  star  of  heroism  in  the  history 
of  Cornell.  A  new  lodge  takes  the  place  of  the  one 
thus  destroyed,  but  money  can  never  restore  the 
art  and  the  furnishings  of  the  former  mansion,  on 


35 


At  Cornell 

which  the  builders  lavished  thousands,  and  ran- 
sacked Europe  to  provide  it  with  fittings  and 
decoration. 

Retracing  our  steps  now  toward  the  east,  we 
pass  along  before  the  length  of  Sibley,  the  home 
of  the  College  of  Mechanical  Engineering.  The 
recitation  and  drawing  rooms  are  in  front,  while 
behind,  in  separate  buildings,  are  the  shops,  testing 
and  dynamo  laboratories,  and  the  forge  and  foundry. 
Under  the  central  dome  of  Sibley,  which  was  added 
recently  to  fill  in  the  gap  between  two  buildings 
which  formerly  stood  on  its  flanks,  is  Sibley  Hall, 
on  the  second  floor;  and  on  the  first  floor,  below 
this,  the  Sibley  Club  Room,  the  meeting  place  of 
the  Sibley  students.  In  a  case  in  this  room  is 
preserved  an  interesting  relic,  the  first  telegraph 
instrument.  This  relic  is  of  especial  interest  to 
Comellians,  for  by  the  financial  success  of  the  tele- 
graph, due  largely  to  his  scheme  of  stringing  the 
wires  on  poles,  Ezra  Cornell's  fortune  was  amassed; 
and  this  fortune  he  subsequently  gave  in  large  part 
to  the  University.  The  original  tape  of  the  first 
message  lies  beside  the  instrument,  and  on  it  may 
be  read  the  historic  words,  "What  hath  God 
wrought?" 

Turning  north,  and  then  again  to  the  east  for 
half  a  block,  we  digress  now  for  a  few  moments 
from  the  quadrangle,  to  peer  from  the  iron  bridge 
over  Fall  Creek,  down  on  Triphammer  Falls,  and 
the  Hydraulic  Laboratory  of  the  Civil  Engineers; 

36 


The  Cornell  Campus — A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

a  building  sug- 
gestive of  a 
gray,  old  cas- 
tle. Above  the 
falls  is  Beebe 
Lake,  and  be- 
low it  is  the 
deep  gorge, 
which  in  its 
traversing,  will 
afford  quite  an 
experience  to 
the  visitor  who 
hails  from  a 
section  where 
such  chasms 
are  not  found. 
On  return- 
ing to  the 
quadrangle  and 
to  the  point  in  front  of  Sibley,  at  which  we  left  it, 
and  turning  south  from  there,  we  pass  the  many 
gabled,  ivy  covered  Lincoln  Hall,  where  the  College 
of  Civil  Engineering  is  housed.  This  college  has  a 
very  pleasant  location,  with  a  beautiful  clump  of 
oaks  just  in  front  of  the  building,  under  which  trees 
the  Class  Exercises,  of  the  senior  class,  are  held  at 
commencement  time. 

It  will  be  well  worth  while  to  step  out  under  the 
low  hung  branches  of  these  trees,  to  get  the  effect, 


Sripljammpr  JFaUa  and  iBppbp  Slakf 


37 


At  Cornell 


i^^'l^l 

o 

M 

:^W||tei 

1 
'^' 

"~lBft^ 

Hinroln  l|aU.  tUfraugif  tift  ^rtta 

from  this  point,  of  the  long  front  of  Goldwin  Smith 
Hall  of  Humanities,  the  most  imposing  building  on 
the  Campus,  and  one  whose  architecture  has  been 
alternately  lauded  greatly  or  condemned  utterly. 
There  are  those  who  say  it  is  a  composite  of  a  Grecian 
temple  in  the  middle  and  an  Indian  wigwam  at 
each  end.  On  the  other  hand,  the  simplicity  of  its 
lines,  the  suggestiveness  of  its  solid  proportions; 
and  especially  the  compelling  power  of  the  massive 
columns  of  the  central  portal,  combined  with  the 
gleaming  white  of  its  material,  lend  it  a  grandeur 
which  makes  its  own  impression  on  the  unprejudiced, 
unprofessional  observer. 

In  the  entrance  hall  are  the  busts  of  Gold- 
win  Smith  and  his  wife,  the  latter  after  a  model 
by  Thorwaldsen.     There    is    also  a  bust  of    King 


38 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 


Alfred  of  England,  the  gift  of  Goldwin  Smith  and 
his  wife. 

In  the  basement  rooms  to  the  right  and  left  of 
the  entrance  hallways  is  the  Museum  of  Classical 
Archaeology,  composed  of  plaster  casts  of  the  mas- 
terpieces of  antique  sculpture  and  bronzes.  These 
are  full  size  and  over  five  hundred  in  number.  As  a 
museum  of  classical  sculpture  this  is  said  to  be  un- 
excelled among 
the  collections 
of  American 
Universities,  and 
among  other 
foundations  only 
by  that  of  the 
Museum  of  Fine 
Arts  of  Boston. 

The  modern 
class  and  lec- 
ture rooms  of 
Goldwin  vSmith 
Hall  also  at- 
tract attention 
because  of  their 
convenience, 
and  the  invi- 
tation to  work 
which  they 
seem  to  extend; 

the  latter  a  qual-  Si,^  portal  of  (golbmtn  &mttl|  l^all 


39 


At  Cornell 

ity  sadly  lacking  in  some  of  the  older  buildings. 
On  the  second  floor  is  an  educational  museum 
which  has  an  especial   interest  for  teachers. 

Emerging  from  Goldwin  Smith  Hall,  through 
the  south  doorway,  we  see  facing  us,  and  completing 
the  quadrangle,  to  the  right  Boardman  Hall,  the 
Law  School  building;  and  to  the  left  Stimson  Hall, 
the  College  of  Medicine.  Goldwin  Smith,  Stimson, 
Boardman  and  the  Library  are  built  of  the  same 
material,  and  in  time  of  building  date  from  youngest 
to  oldest  in  the  order  named.  Thus  they  illustrate 
the  progressive  changes  in  appearance  that  a  build- 
ing of  such  stone  undergoes  on  exposure  to  the 
weather,  and  they  are  the  stock  illustration  of  this 
phenomenon  to  students  of  architecture  and  geology. 

The  laboratories  and  dissecting  rooms  of  Stim- 
son are  interesting,  but  the  latter  are  closed  to 
visitors  while  the  term's  work  is  in  progress. 

Turning  now  again  to  the  east,  and  crossing 
East  Avenue,  we  find  ourselves  under  the  pines 
which  surround  the  residence  of  former  President 
of  the  University,  Andrew  Dickson  White,  educator, 
diplomat,  author;  the  most  famous  living  personage 
intimately  connected  with  the  history  of  Cornell. 

His  residence  adjoins  the  Rockefeller  Hall  of 
Physics,  which  is  of  the  same  date  as  Goldwin  Smith 
Hall  of  Humanities,  but  contrasts  with  that  building 
in  that  Rockefeller  Hall  expresses  the  acme  of  utility 
in  construction,  whereas  architecturally,  Goldwin 
Smith  Hall  makes  also  an  appeal  to  the  aesthetic 

40 


o 
S 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

sense.  Thus,  although  the  interior  arrangement  of 
Goldwin  Smith  Hall  is  almost  ideal,  yet  in  the 
building  of  Rockefeller  Hall  the  beauty  of  a  thing 
has  been  measured  solely  by  its  utility.  In  the 
equipment  of  Rockefeller,  the  Physics  department 
pressed  into  service  every  principle  of  the  physics 
they  teach,  and  the  result  is  that  the  lecture  and 
recitation  halls  are  fitted  up  with  all  manner  of 
devices  for  making  demonstrations  and  experiments 
in  their  science;  and  for  the  convenience  of  those 
using  them.  The  question  comes  up  in  every  com- 
munity when  the  building  of  a  new  school  is  con- 
templated, whether  every  cent  expended  shall 
subserve  utility,  or  whether  the  beauty  of  the 
edifice  shall  also  be  considered.  A  suggestion  on 
this  question  may  be  gained  perhaps,  by  a  com- 
parison of  Goldwin  Smith  Hall  of  Humanities  and 
Rockefeller  Hall  of  Physics. 

On  a  slight  rise  behind,  and  some  two  blocks 
beyond  Rockefeller  Hall,  are  the  new  buildings  of 
the  College  of  Agriculture.  The  architecture  of 
these  is  at  once  simple  and  impressive,  and  their 
location,  overlooking  a  broad  sweep  of  fair  fields 
and  farm  checkered  hillsides,  is  typical  of  the  over- 
lordship  that  science,  as  embodied  in  the  college,  is 
gaining  over  agricultural  pursuits. 

The  various  departments  in  this  college  are  of 
especial  interest,  intimately  connected  as  they  are 
with  our  daily  economy.  Here  is  also  found  the 
station,  for  the  Ithaca  region,  of  the  United  States 

43 


At  Cornell 

Weather  Bureau.  A  half  hour  spent  in  it  means  an 
intelligent  appreciation  of  the  problem  with  which 
the  forecasters  of  the  weather  are  daily  wrestling. 

In  the  far  eastern  wing  of  the  college,  on  the 
ground  floor,  are  located  the  Dairy  and  Cheese- 
making  departments,  and  in  these  the  various  pro- 
cesses of  the  manufacture  of  such  products  is 
illustrated  in  an  especially  interesting  and  instructive 
way,  so  that  every  rural  visitor  may  see  how  a 
dairy  can  be  conducted  with  a  care  for  cleanliness 
which  is  thoroughly  scientific. 

The  entomological  collections  and  the  equip- 
ment of  the  department  of  Domestic  Economy  on 
the  upper  floors  have  a  great  interest  for  many,  the 
latter  especially  for  feminine  visitors. 

From  the  broad,  terraced  approach  to  the 
Agricultural  College  one  looks  over  Alumni  Field, 
with  its  tennis  courts,  base  ball  diamond  and  run- 
ning track.  This  is  the  University's  new  athletic 
field,  in  whose  construction  an  immense  amount  of 
grading  was  necessary,  but  which,  completed,  affords 
athletic  facilities  at  once  adequate  and  accessible 
from  the  Campus;  thus  eliminating  the  greatest 
drawback  to  a  general  participation  in  athletic 
sports,  which  the  great  amount  of  time  consumed 
in  going  to  and  coming  from  Percy  Field,  down  in 
the  valley,  formerly  offered. 

Turning  again  toward  the  main  part  of  the 
Campus  we  have  yet  to  see  the  Veterinary  College 
and  the  Fuertes  Astronomical  Observatory.     Of  the 

44 


"'*; 


J 


9irrrtor  of  tiff  Nrm  ^ork  &tatp  GloUpgp  nf  Agrirulturf 
at  (flortwU  Untwrrfltty 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

latter  we  can  see  from  this  point  the  three  bald- 
pated  domes  which  shelter  the  telescopes.  Visitors, 
except  those  especially  interested,  are  not  admitted 
to  the  Observatory  because  of  the  close  quarters. 
In  the  Veterinary  College  is  a  museum  which  is  of 
interest  to  animal  lovers  and  owners;  and  before 
the  college  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  lawns  of 
the  Campus.  It  may  be  appropos  here  to  say  that 
the  Veterinary  College,  and  also  the  College  of 
Agriculture,  are  New  York  State  institutions  under 
the  direction  and  management  of  Cornell  Univer- 
sity, but  are  supported  entirely  by  annual  state 
appropriations. 

We  find  ourselves  now  again  on  East  avenue 
and  in  the  shade  of  the  Ostrander  Elms.  These 
trees  were  the  gift  of  John  B.  Ostrander,  a  poor 
man,  who  nevertheless  wanted  to  contribute  some- 
thing to  the  new  University;  and  therefore  offered 
the  trees  with  the  sentiment,  expressed  to  Henry  W. 
Sage:  "They  will  make  a  shade  for  somebody  after 
you  and  I  are  gone."  In  our  weariness  we  are 
grateful  to  him,  and,  our  round  completed,  in  our 
weariness  again,  we  realize  the  magnificent  propor- 
tions of  the  Campus,  extending  as  it  does  over  a 
half  mile  north  and  south,  and  almost  a  mile  in  the 
east  and  west  directions. 

As  all  but  the.  laboratory  classes  are  of  one 
hour's  duration,  it  is  when  the  big  bell  in  the  tower 
of  the  Library  strikes,  "at  the  hour,"  that  the 
Campus  best  reflects  University  activity.    Then,  at 

47 


Ai  Cornell 

once,  the  walks  and  cross  paths  are  suddenly 
thronged  with  students  and  graduates,  idling  or 
hurrying,  depending  on  whether  they  are  "studes" 
or  students,  from  one  class  to  the  next;  which  next 
class  perchance  meets  in  a  building  a  quarter  mile 
distant.  It  is  an  animated  scene;  freshmen  patter 
back  and  forth,  wearing  their  little  gray  caps, 
groups  of  upper-classmen  gather  in  entrance  hall- 
ways, and  perhaps  the  chorus  of  the  latest  popular 
song  is  being  shouted  from  some  doorway.  Thread- 
ing their  way  through  the  throng  are  instructors 
and  professors,  with  felt  bags  bulging  of  text  books ; 
edging  their  way  past  groups  of  students  on  the 
steps,  who  are,  perhaps,  comparing  notes  on  the 
questions  and  answers  of  a  preliminary  examination 
of  the  previous  hour.  In  that  ten  minutes  "at  the 
hour"  acquaintance  nods  to  acquaintance,  and 
friend  chats  with  friend ;  everybody  on  the  Campus 
is  in  sight.  Between  the  hours,  however,  the  great 
quadrangle  is  as  silent  as  a  graveyard,  and  betrays 
no  sign  of  the  swarming  life  the  gray  walls  contain. 
It  is  positively  an  eerie  feeling  that  one  has  when 
the  last  student  disappears,  and  one  paces  the  walks 
again  all  alone. 

One  can  not,  however,  by  this  mere  enumeration 
of  the  buildings  and  cataloging  of  their  contents, 
nor  yet  by  chronicling  the  activities  of  under- 
graduate life,  arrive  at  the  real  charm  of  the  Campus. 
To  attain  that,  one  must  live  on  the  Campus  until 
all  the  illuminating  vistas,  the  subtle  fascination  of 

4S 


The  Cornell  Campus  —  A  Guide  Book  Chapter 

little  corners  and  points  of  view  are  indelibly  stamped 
on  the  mind,  so  that  they  are  an  entity  that  we  can 
carry  with  us  in  imagination.  For  there  are  days 
when  the  clouds  hang  low  and  all  is  gray;  and 
others  when  there  are  fleeting  lights  and  shadows; 
and  again  days  of  broad  open  lights,  when  snowy 
cumulus  banks  tower  high  above  the  buildings. 

In  former  years  the  only  approach  to  the  quad- 
rangle was  up  the  length  of  Central  avenue.  Now, 
however,  part  of  this  traffic  is  diverted  and  swings 
up  from  South  avenue  over  toward  Sage  College, 
and  from  thence  along  a  new  walk,  parallel  to  Cen- 
tral avenue,  to  Goldwin  Smith  and  Lincoln  Halls, 
and  to  Sibley  College.     This  highway  affords  many 


49 


At  Cornell 

new  groupings  and  glimpses  of  the  buildings;  which 
vistas  have  to  Cornellians  now  the  charm  of  novelty, 
but  are  soon  to  become  a  cherished  inheritance, 
and  as  typical  of  Cornell  as  Central  avenue  views. 
This  new  walk  afifords  an  especially  impressive  view 
of  that  great  gray  sentinel,  the  Library  Tower,  on 
guard  always  over  the  Campus.  At  this  same  view 
point  we  see,  under  the  green  of  the  trees,  the 
gleaming  white  of  the  three  newer  buildings.  Board- 
man,  Stimson  and  Goldwin  Smith  Halls. 

Morrill,  McGraw  and  White  are  the  oldest  of 
the  buildings  on  the  Campus;  and  of  these  McGraw 
is  ivy-mantled,  has  a  tower  and  massive  stone 
steps.  The  time  is  late  afternoon  in  early  spring; 
the  last  clouds  from  a  warm  shower  have  just 
passed  over,  and  now  the  sun,  still  high  in  the 
west,  makes  a  reflection  of  the  cerulean  blue  sky 
and  the  flowing  lines  of  the  elms  in  the  little  pools 
which  fill  the  hollows  of  the  old,  worn  walks.  The 
last  of  the  afternoon  stragglers  are  forsaking  the 
doorways,  wherein  they  lurked  during  the  rain,  and 
wend  their  way  down  the  hill.  It  is  the  idyllic 
time,  when  breathes  the  true,  free  spirit  of  the 
Cornell  Campus,  and  holds  full  sway.  Would  that 
one  might  live  in  its  enchantment  always,  for  it 
engenders  the  optimistic  glow  of  youth,  and  all 
things  assume  a  roseate  hue.  And  even  though  we 
must  now  quit  its  confines,  the  remembrance  of  this 
Campus  magic  will  linger  long  with  us;  and  with 
it  the  Cornell  Spirit  itself, — of  which  it  is  a  part. 

50 


Ip  wxh  iflmn  CJ^ntral  Kmtrnt 


^JN  every  great  city  there  is  an  artery  where  its 
Jll   life  pulses  the  most  actively  and  most  visibly. 

In  that  artery  a  human  tide  rises  and  ebbs 
with  the  day's  coming  and  going.  At  Cornell  there 
is  also  such  an  artery,  Central  avenue.  There  too, 
we  see  the  influx  and  the  outflow  of  a  great  human 
tide;  but  its  periods  do  not  conform  in  time  to 
those  of  the  city;  moreover,  there  are,  during  the 
day,  many  minor  rises  of  the  human  tide  on  Central 
avenue. 

The  freshman's  first  travels,  over  its  winding 
course,  extending  from  Cascadilla  bridge  to  Sibley 
dome,  are  initiations  into  college  life.  The  more 
so  because  in  that  first  week  of  the  college  year, 
the  avenue  is  a  scene  of  feverish  activity,  for  it 
leads  to  Davy  Hoy's  office,  up  in  Morrill;  and  in 
that  grim  place  (over  whose  door  might  well  be 
posted  the  legend,  "Who  enter  here,  oft  leave 
Cornell  behind")  all  undergraduate  interests  of  that 
first  week  focus;  concerned  as  they  are,  with  regis- 
tration, arrangements  about  entrance  conditions  and 
petitions.     Thus   there  is  at  that  time  a  ceaseless 

53 


At  Cornell 

travel  during  the  day's  length  over  Central  avenue's 
worn  pavements. 

Even  now  it  is  with  anxiety  that  we  measure 
the  slope  beyond  Cascadilla  bridge,  for  the  question 
that  is  uppermost  in  our  minds  is:  Will  Davy  let 
us  register  with  conditions?  But  for  the  nonce  we 
forget  our  anxiety,  as  our  eyes  are  caught  by  the 
huge  chalked  signs  which  emblazon  the  walk  at  our 
feet.  These  are  the  fruits  of  the  painful  labor  of 
the  "ass"  manager  competitors,  toiling  in  the  wee, 
small  hours  of  the  night  just  passed.  The  first 
announces  the  nx+  i  th  exhumation  of  the  "  Widow", 
and  assures  us  that  that  funny  ancient  is  still  to 
be  had,  every  issue  of  the  year,  for  two  "simoleons." 
There  follows  next  a  bulletin,  that  he  who  runs  may 
read,  informing  that: 


FOOTBALL 

First  Game  of  the  Season 

HOBART  vs.  CORNELL 

Percy  Field      -  -      -  -      -  -      3  P.  M. 

50c 
Season  Tickets  Good 


By  now  we  are  under  the  long  arch  of  the 
elms  which  extends  from  Sage  Cottage  to  the 
Library  tower;  a  vista  which  has  been  from  "  Cornell 
time  immemorial"  the  delight  of  the  kodak  fiend. 
One  can  almost  imagine  those  trees  giving  us  a  first 
inspection  today;    and   imagine  also,   that,   as  we 

54 


'^^ns  at  tift  SiuiPB*' 


up  and  Down  Central  Avenue 

hurry  up  and  down  the  hill,  under  their  boughs, 
in  later  days,  they  will  hold  whispered  confer- 
ences over  us,  and  adjudge  us,  whether  we  are 
worthy;  so  stately  they  seem,  and  so  full  of  per- 
sonality. Through  their  graceful,  sweeping  limbs 
one  glimpses  dimly  the  gray  heights  of  Library 
tower,  and  we  are  of  a  sudden  impressed  by  the 
something  of  grandeur  and  strength  which  the 
scene  embodies,  and  then,  as  we  would  muse  on 
in  dreams — we  find  ourselves  in  the  hands  of  the 
Philistines. 

These  are  a  doughty  band  of  ass-managers, 
who  hem  off  all  escape,  the  while  thrusting  printed 
forms  into  our  hands  with  threats  of  "Subscribe 
for  the  Sun?"  "You  can't  get  along  without  the 
Sun;  all  the  college  news  every  morning!"  We 
subscribe.  Then,  "Got  your  season  ticket  yet?" 
"Don't  shortskate;  buy  a  season  ticket,  good  for 
all  the  games!"  We  buy,  and  promise  to  have  a 
'dislikeness'  of  ourselves  taken  by  a  local  photo- 
grapher, to  be  affixed  like  a  postage  stamp  to  the 
ticket  for  identification  purposes.  Then  we  sub- 
scribe for  the  Era,  the  Widow,  and  even  perchance, 
the  Alumni  News,  and  breathe  more  freely,  for 
apparently  the  road  is  clear.  Vain  hope,  we  have 
yet  to  encounter  the  Pressing  Contract,  and  the 
Laundry  Agency  man,  and  finally,  crowning  humilia- 
tion of  all,  out  steps  a  haughty  Junior  and  holds 
before  our  dazM  eyes  an  "  Official  Courses  of  Instruc- 
tion," twenty-L  8  cents,  please!"    We  eagerly  secure 

67 


At  Cornell 


^\\t  MigtjttpHt  &iirg*  of  life  fear 

a  copy  of  this — to  find  a  few  minutes  later,  oh 
chastening  thought,  that  they  are  gratis  at  the 
office.  "He  saw  that  we  were  verdant  freshmen;" 
that  idea,  and  not  the  quarter  gone,  is  what  hurts. 
At  the  noon  hour  of  that  first  day  of  the  college 
year  the  avenue  is  still,  for  Prexy  is  delivering  his 
annual  address  in  the  Armory,  reading  to  us  excerpts 
from  letters  sent  by  infuriated  mamas  and  papas 
who  clamor  against  the  treatment  Willie  has  received 
at  the  hands  of  barbarian  undergraduates  at  Cornell. 
Silence.  Then  we  are  solemnly  forbidden  to  engage 
in  unorganized  rushes.  Finally  some  talk  about 
ideals — we  glow  with  pride  that  we  too  are  now 
college  men — and  then  it  is  over,  and  there  swells 
down  the  avenue  the  mightiest  surge  of  the  year, 


58 


"lH\i\ser  (Ertttral  Aurttup' 


up  and  Down  Central  Avenue 

as  the  crowd  comes  off  the  Campus  for  its  mid- 
day meal. 

Other,  succeeding  days,  are  more  humdrum,  but 
not,  therefore,  less  interesting.  At  half  after  seven 
in  the  morning  there  begin  to  emerge,  from  the 
shadowy,  subterranean  portals  of  the  boarding  houses ; 
the  great  cohort  of  "  studes  "  with  eight  o 'clocks; 
and,  a  little  later,  at  the  merry  call  of  the  chimes, 
a  great  black  column  moves  up  the  hill.  There  are 
Sibley  men  with  tin  dinner  pails,  looking  like  mill 
hands;  the  grind  with  his  armful  of  books;  the 
frosh,  with  wistful  eye,  and  wrinkled,  cheap,  gray 
cap;  the  jaunty . senior,  and  the  co-ed — all  climb- 
ing, climbing,  to  the  music  of  those  sonorous  bells. 
This  is  the  rising  tide  at  its  height,  and  the  great 
column,  seen  from  the  hilltop,  looks  like  a  monstrous 
centipede,  advancing  tortuously.  At  one,  in  the 
afternoon,  we  have  the  ebb  tide  rushing,  regardless, 
past  "Pinochle"  on  the  bridge,  solicitous  for  old 
clothes. 

The  aspect  of  the  avenue  is  a  true  index  to  the 
change  of  the  seasons.  In  autumn,  the  late  October 
days  are  marked  by  the  rustle  and  scurry  of  the 
falling  leaves,  as  the  breezes  hurry  them  across  the 
broad  lawns.  Then  come  the  days  of  the  early 
snowfalls  when  the  trees  drip  in  utter  dejection, 
and  the  avenue  is  a  sea  of  ooze.  But  these  days 
are  soon  succeeded  by  the  crisp  cold  of  winter, 
when  sharp  winds  bite  cheerfully,  and  the  snow 
packs     hard     and     glassy    underfoot.      Then    one 

61 


At  Cornell 

abandons  tedious  walking  for  a  glorious  slide  down 
the  hill. 

A  slender  Junior  Week  girl  was  gliding  daintily 
along,  once  upon  such  a  time,  while  behind  her 
came  a  great,  husky,  six  foot  "stude,"  a  stranger 
to  the  girl.  The  slope  at  the  point  of  this  advance 
is  long;  faster  and  faster  they  go,  the  man  is  heavy 
and  the  force  of  gravity  is  working  mightily.  He 
gains  on  the  maiden;  now  he  has  all  but  overtaken 
her ;  he  can  not  stop  without  a  fall  (and  perhaps  at 
the  same  time  upset  femininity),  so  he  siezes  the 
dilemma  by  the  horns,  or  more  literally,  grabs  the 
girl  about  the  waist,  and,  swaying  rythmically, 
down  the  hill  they  go  together,  he  bawling  at  inter- 
vals, horrified:  "I  beg  your  pardon,"  and  she 
answering,  as  regularly  and  politely,  over  her 
shoulder,  "Why  certainly,"  until  they  reach  the 
bottom  of  the  slope  and  receive  the  plaudits  of  the 
crowd;    he  crimson,  she  smiling  and  collected. 

With  the  approach  of  spring  comes  relaxation, 
and  the  elm  trees  become  veils  of  gray  mist — a  part 
of  the  hazy  languor  which  o'ertakes  all  organic  life 
at  this  time.  Even  Jack  Moakley's  runners,  in 
their  mud-splashed  white  suits,  seem  to  abate  the 
winter  vigor  of  their  sprint  from  the  Tower  to  the 
Armory.  And  by  the  time  the  summer  breezes  are 
whispering  among  the  full  developed  leaves,  we  say 
goodbye  to  the  avenue  until  next  fall. 


62 


m 


IS 

s 


fflampuH  Ualka  anb  fatlfH 


/||\NE  can  not  be  long  on  the  Cornell  Campus  and 
l|h^  escape  the  allurement  of  the  many  walks  and 
paths  which  open  invitingly  at  almost  every 
turn,  whenever  one  forsakes  the  confines  of  the 
quadrangle  itself.  From  the  early  days  of  Cornell 
history  the  sylvan  retreats  which  enclose  the  Campus 
have  called  for  exploration;  and  hard,  beaten  paths 
now  mark  the  trails  of  the  first  invaders  of  the 
gorge  banks  and  the  hill  slopes. 

The  two  most  notable,  of  the  walks  which  lead 
directly  off  from  the  Campus,  are  Gold  win  Smith 
walk  and  the  Forest  Home  path. 

The  former  winds  along  both  sides  of  Cascadilla 
stream;  beginning  on  the  east  side  of  the  stone 
arch  bridge,  and  plunging  at  once  into  the  evergreen 
of  the  tall  hemlocks  which  overshadow  stream, 
gorge,  and  walk  completely.  So  long  as  he  was  at 
Cornell,  this  walk  was  the  favorite  retreat  of  Goldwin 
Smith,  the  Oxford  professor,  whom  A.  D.  White 
persuaded  to  leave  England  to  take  a  position  on 
the  faculty  of  the  newly  founded  institution  of 
Cornell. 

67 


At  Cornell 

The  path  is  bordered  on  the  one  side  by  a  limpid 
stream,  like  a  meadow  brook  which  -has  plunged 
into  the  forest;  and  on  the  other  looks  down  into 
the  dark  gorge  and  the  rushing  white  of  the  Casca- 
dilla  waters,  as  they  leap,  foamfiecked,  over  ledge 
after  ledge  in  their  hurrying  course.    At  the  end  of 


(goldtiiitt  »mitl|  ttalk  in  Sintrr 
68 


a    S    =    2 


Campus  Walks  and  Paths 

the  gorge  the  moss-covered,  picturesque  dam  of  an 
old  pond  creates  a  waterfall,  ensconced  in  ferns  and 
shrubbery.  Here  the  valley  opens  out,  and  the  path 
turns  where  a  footbridge  crosses  to  the  opposite  side 
of  the  gorge.  On  the  far  side,  the  path  again  disap- 
pears among  the  trees,  and  this  time  skirts  the  very 
edge  of  the  cleft,  finally  emerging  into  the  open  once 
more  at  the  foot  of  East  avenue.  Not  the  least  of 
the  charms  of  Goldwin  Smith  walk  is  its  accessibility, 
and  the  fact  that  its  round  can  be  completed  in 
twenty  minutes ;  it  affords  the  woodland  ramble  for 
a  leisure  half  hour. 

The  path  to  Forest  Home  is  longer,  continuing 


71 


At  Cornell 

for  about  a  mile,  and  leads  from  the  Campus  to  the 
little  village  whose  name  it  bears;  following  along 
the  shores  of  Beebe  Lake  and  the  upper  gorge  of 
Fall  creek.  It  also  is  overshadowed  by  evergreens, 
hemlocks  and  pines,  with  often  a  great  chestnut  and 
a  clump  of  oaks  or  willows  interspersed.  Its  aisles 
are  an  especial  delight  in  the  autumn  when  the 
loose-heaped,  crisp,  gay-colored  leaves  from  the 
deciduous  trees  crackle  underfoot,  and  one  sees  the 
opposite  bank  of  the  lake  as  a  riotous  mass  of  red 
and  yellow;  a  great  panel  of  color  betwixt  the 
blue  of  the  sky  and  its  repeated,  deeper  shade  in 
the  water.  This  again  is  the  path  which  leads  to 
the  skating  house  and  the  toboggan  slide;  and  in 
winter  it  is  merry  with  the  voices  of  those  who 
daily  court  the  exhilaration  that  only  these  sports 
can  offer. 

At  Forest  Home  the  continuation  of  this  path 
follows  the  open  road;  but  one  need  only  turn  to 
the  left,  and  go  up  the  hill  for  a  short  distance  on 
the  branch  road,  to  come  upon  another  path,  half 
hidden  among  the  bushes,  which  offers  a  way  of 
return  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  stream.  This  is 
a  wilder  passage,  and  affords  here  and  there  the 
prospect  of  the  rushing  waters  of  the  gorge,  and, 
at  the  lake's  head,  a  view  of  the  prettiest  waterfall 
near  the  Campus.  No  one  can  resist  the  charm  of 
this  little  cascade,  with  its  perfect  setting  and  sur- 
roundings. Continuing,  one  comes  close  to  the 
lake's  edge   among  picturesque   reeds   and  sedges, 

72 


3fortBt  ^ame  ^atl;  in  Autumn 


Campus  Walks  and  Paths 

which  stand  erect  and  slender  as  though  they  were 
sentinel  guards  of  the  water's  expanse. 

At  the  foot  of  the  last  climb  in  this  path,  and 
near  where  it  ends  on  the  road,  is  a  side  path,  leading 
to  the  head  of  a  stairs  which  afford  a  somewhat 
precarious  access  to  the  bottom  of  the  gorge  below 
Triphammer  falls.  Recently,  money  (subscribed  by 
Brooklyn  alumni)  has  been  expended  in  constructing 
a  number  of  other  paths  which  lead  directly  to  the 
bottom  of  the  gorge.  These  start  on  the  south  bank, 
and  at  the  end  of  East  avenue.  No  doubt  these 
paths  will  achieve  a  wide  popularity  in  the  future 
because  of  the  more  convenient  access  they  furnish 
to  the  stream's  edge.  It  is  by  looking  up  from  the 
bottom  of  the  gorges,  that  one  comes  to  a  best 
appreciation  of  their  scenic  beauties  and  romantic 


Uiift  Prrttteot  liat^rfall  Near  tt;r  Olamitita 
75 


At  Cornell 


wildness ;  feat- 
ures which  have 
made  the  Cornell 
country  famous. 
Another  quite 
secluded  path 
winds  down  the 
south  bank  of 
the  Fall  creek 
gorge,  beginning 
across  the  road 
from  Morse  Hall, 
and  continuing, 
below  the  lower 
bridge,  to  a  van- 
tage point  from 
whence  one  looks 
down  on  the 
giant  staircase 
of  the  Ithaca 
falls,  some  one 
hundred  and  sixty  feet  high.  Generally,  however, 
much  of  the  water  which  should  flow  over  these 
falls  is  diverted,  for  power  purposes,  into  the  tunnel 
which  has  been  carved  through  the  solid  rock 
below  us.  This  tunnel  is  itself  one  of  the  inter- 
esting features  of  the  region  to  all  Cornellians, 
linked  as  it  is  with  the  early  activities  of  the 
Founder.  Before  his  time  the  water  had  for 
years  been  carried  in  a  flume  along  the  cliff  wall. 


Q*l}p  Nortlj  Eftgf  of  Vetbt  liakf 


76 


Cornell  Walks  and  Paths 

to  the  wheels  of  the  mills  below.  This  flume  required 
almost  continual  and  difficult  repairing  to  keep  it 
in  working  order.  It  remained  for  Ezra  Cornell  to 
note  that  a  stratum  of  sandstone,  occurring  some 


Jtifara  JFalla  fram  Abovr 
77 


At  Cornell 

six  feet  above  the  level  of  the  flume,  would  furnish 
a  strong  roof  for  a  tunnel;  while  the  tunnel  itself 
could  be  very  readily  cut  through  the  friable  shales 
below  the  sandstone.  His  project  was,  after  some 
opposition,  carried  out,  and  the  tunnel,  still  in  use 
today,  is  a  monument  to  the  Founder's  resource- 
fulness and  ability  to  turn  to  his  purpose  the  natural 
advantages  which  the  location  afforded.  One  may 
traverse  the  dark  passage  of  the  tunnel  by  a  plank 
walk  which  bridges  the  black  waters  gurgling  over 
the  tunnel  bottom.  The  decay  and  crumbling  of 
the  soft  shales  on  the  sides  of  the  passage,  have 
removed  all  traces  of  its  artificial  origin;  but  the 
sandstone  roof  is  still  intact,  and  is  as  substantial  as 
was  the  financial  advantage  which  Ezra,  as  tunnel 
constructor,  gained  by  its  utilization. 


78 


Fh^  Jnunb^r — iEzra  Qlnrtt^U 


®If0  Jffmtnb^r — iExra  Qlorn^U 


JJ2ZRA  CORNELL  was  born  at  Westchester 
TC  Landing,  Westchester  County,  New  York,  on 
January  11,  1807. 

His  father,  Elijah  Cornell,  supported  a  family 
of  eleven  children,  of  whom  Ezra  was  the  oldest,  by 
pottery  making  and  farming.  When  Ezra  was 
twelve  years  old  the  family  located  permanently 
near  the  village  of  DeRuyter,  New  York.  To  this 
place,  in  the  far  western  part  of  New  York  State, 
the  father  was  attracted  by  the  fact  that  an  ex- 
tensive neighborhood  of  "Friends,"  or  Quakers, 
were  located  there,  of  which  religious  faith  both 
he  and  his  wife  were,  and  their  ancestors  had  been 
for  generations. 

From  his  parents  Ezra  inherited  a  superb  con- 
stitution, and  from  early  youth  he  manifested  the 
unusual  activity,  mental  and  physical,  which  lasted 
throughout  his  life.  His  aptitude  for  mechanical 
pursuits  was  extraordinary.  At  seventeen  he  had 
planned,  framed  and  finished  a  two  story  house  for 
the  family,  with  no  instruction,  and  with  only  the 
assistance   of   his   brother,    and   of   the    astonished 

"  81 


At  Cornell 

neighbors  who  assisted  at  the  raising — as  was  then 
customary. 

Made  ambitious  by  this  success,  Ezra  left  home 
in  search  of  employment  as  carpenter.  Failing  to 
secure  this  kind  of  work,  he  spent  two  years  in  the 
vicinity  of  Syracuse  in  a  lumber  camp,  and  then  a 
year  in  a  machine  shop  at  Homer.  In  that  year  he 
heard  that  the  town  of  Ithaca,  forty  miles  from 
his  home,  was  thriving,  and  that  its  prospects  were 
exceedingly  bright,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the 
absence  of  railroads,  at  that  time,  made  all  the 
territory  of  the  southern  counties  of  New  York  and 
northern  Pennsylvania  tributary  to  Ithaca,  because  of 
its  favorable  position  with  respect  to  water  routes. 
Ezra,  therefore,  after  completing  his  engagement  at 
Homer,  set  out  to  walk  to  Ithaca  from  his  father's 
farm,  taking  with  him  only  a  few  dollars  and  a 
spare  suit  of  clothes.  This  was  in  April,  1828. 
Almost  immediately  on  his  arrival,  he  succeeded  in 
securing  employment  as  a  carpenter.  Not  many 
weeks  later  his  activities  were  transferred  to  the 
cotton  mill  operated  by  Mr.  Otis  Eddy,  on  what  is 
now  the  site  of  Cascadilla  Place.  Here  he  held  a 
position  comparable  to  the  modern  one  of  main- 
tenance superintendent;  and  a  year  later  accepted 
a  similar  position  in  the  more  extensive  mills 
owned  by  Jeremiah  S.  Beebe,  where  he  remained 
for  twelve  years,  becoming  in  time  the  confi- 
dential agent  and  manager  of  these  interests  for 
his  employer. 

82 


S!l|r  ^auttbtr  —  Ezra  QlnrttpU 


The  Founder  —  Ezra  Cornell 

This  last  position  gave  him  full  scope  for  the 
employment  of  his  mechanical  genius,  and  his 
devices,  tending  to  economical  operation,  made  the 
mills  very  prosperous.  Characteristic  of  such  im- 
provements was  his  project  of  excavating  a  tunnel 
through  the  rock  of  Fall  creek  gorge,  and  thus 
obviating  the  necessity  of  maintaining  the  expensive, 
inefficient,  and  difficultly  repaired  flume  along  the 
south  side  of  the  gorge  wall,  which  was  then  the 
means  by  which  the  water,  used  for  power,  was 
conveyed  to  the  mills.  This  project  was  entirely 
successful,  Mr.  Cornell  acting  as  chief  engineer,  and 
the  tunnel,  finished  in  1831,  is  still  in  use  today. 
Some  years  later  he  practically  insured  the  con- 
stancy of  this  power  supply  by  constructing  the 
original  of  the  present  Beebe  lake  dam,  and  so 
creating  Beebe  lake  as  a  storage  reservoir. 

In  the  second  year  of  his  employment  under 
Colonel  Beebe,  Mr.  Cornell  married  Mary  Ann  Wood, 
whose  father  had  been  a  favorite  pupil  of  Mr.  Cor- 
nell's father,  when  the  latter  taught  school  during 
the  winter  months  of  his  early  residence  in  DeRuyter. 
It  was  while  on  a  visit  to  Mr.  Wood's  home,  with 
his  father,  that  Mr.  Cornell  met  Miss  Wood  who, 
like  Ezra,  was  one  of  eleven  children.  Because  of 
this  marriage  outside  the  Friend's  Society,  Mr. 
Cornell,  who,  up  to  that  time,  had  been  an  active 
member  of  the  Quaker  Society,  was  formally  excom- 
municated from  the  sect.  Yet  he  held  to  their 
tenets    faithfully    throughout    his    life,    though    he 

85 


At  Cornell 

declined  to  accept  the  society's  invitation  to  express 
regret  for  the  offense  and  be  reinstated.  In  the 
summer  following  their  marriage,  the  couple  began 
housekeeping  in  a  dwelling  which  Mr.  Cornell  built 
just  north  of  the  mills,  where  they  resided  for  twenty 
years,  and  their  nine  children  were  born,  five  of 
whom  reached  maturity. 

In  1841,  Colonel  Beebe  retired  from  active 
business,  and  Mr.  Cornell  was  thrown  out  of  employ- 
ment. In  this  predicament  he  purchased  the  patent 
rights,  for  Maine  and  Georgia,  of  a  new  plow  which 
had  been  invented  by  his  neighbors,  Messrs.  Bamaby 
and  Movers.  While  in  Maine  for  the  purpose  of 
selling  these  rights,  he  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Frances  0.  J.  Smith,  then  editor  and  publisher  of 
the  Maine  Farmer.  Cornell's  business  was  not  com- 
pleted on  the  first  visit,  and  a  year  later,  in  1843, 
he  made  a  second  visit  to  complete  negotiations. 
Calling  on  his  friend  Smith,  he  found  him  engaged 
in  attempting  to  explain  an  idea  of  his.  Smith's, 
to  a  plow  manufacturer,  for  a  machine  which  was 
to  dig  a  ditch  two  feet  deep,  and  wide  enough  to 
lay  a  telegraph  pipe  in  the  ground,  and  leave  the 
excavated  earth  conveniently  near  for  filling  the 
ditch,  by  means  of  another  machine.  Mr.  Smith 
had  taken  the  contract  for  laying  the  test  line  of 
Professor  Morse's  new  invention,  the  telegraph, 
from  Washington  to  Baltimore,  with  compensation 
at  the  rate  of  one  hundred  dollars  per  mile  of 
pipe  laid. 

86 


The  Founder  —  Ezra  Cornell 

The  plow  manufacturer  was  skeptical  of  Mr. 
Smith's  ideas,  and  Mr.  Cornell's  arrival  was  oppor- 
tune, for  Mr.  Smith  immediately  took  him  into 
confidence. ,  Mr.  Cornell's  description  of  what  ensued, 
as  follows,  is  taken  essentially  from  a  memorandum 
book,   in  which  he  later  wrote   it  down: 

"An  examination  of  the  pipe  to  be  laid,  and 
a  little  reflection  convinced  me  that  he  did  not 
want  two  machines,  one  to  excavate  and  the  other 
to  fill.  I  therefore,  sketched  a  rough  diagram  of 
a  machine  which  provided  that  the  pipe,  with 
wires  enclosed,  be  coiled  around  a  drum  or  reel, 
from  whence  it  was  to  pass  through  a  hollow 
standard,  protected  by  shives,  directly  to  the  rear 
of  a  coulter  or  cutter,  which  was  so  arranged  as 
to  cut  a  furrow  two  feet  deep  and  one  and  one- 
fourth  inches  wide.  Arranged  something  like  a 
plow,  it  was  to  be  drawn  by  a  powerful  team, 
and  deposit  the  pipe  as  it  moved  along.  The 
furrow  being  so  narrow,  would  soon  close  itself, 
and  conceal  the  pipe  fromi  view." 

At  this  proposal,  Mr.  Smith  was  almost  as 
skeptical  as  the  plow  man  had  been,  but  he 
employed  Mr.  Cornell  to  build  the  machine,  and 
indeed  became  so  enthusiastic  as  it  neared  com- 
pletion, that  he  invited  Professor  Morse  to  witness 
its  trial.  This  trial  was  entirely  successful,  and 
here  occurred  the  first  meeting  of  the  two  men  to 
whom  the  telegraph  business  owes  its  present  day 
magnitude.       Mr.     Cornell's    conviction    that    the 

87 


At  Cornell 

telegraph  would  become  a  grand  enterprise, 
induced  him  to  accept  Mr.  Smith's  proposal  that 
he  superintend  the  laying  of  the  pipe  from  Balti- 
more to  Washington. 

The    underground    pipe    proved    defective    in 
insulation,  as  was  first   convincingly  demonstrated 


iUff  (UttBt  af  Jtlfara  JFoUa 
88 


The  Founder  — Ezra  Cornell 

by  Mr.  Cornell,  and  on  hearing  of  this,  Professor 
Morse  became  anxious,  and  coming  out  to  the 
work,  asked  a  word  in  private  with  Mr.  Cornell, 
and  said:  "Mr.  Cornell,  can  you  not  contrive  to 
stop  this  work  for  a  few  days  so  that  the  papers 
will  not  know  it  has  been  purposely  interrupted  ? 
I  want  to  make  some  experiments  before  any 
more  pipe  is  laid."  Replying  to  Professor  Morse 
that  he  would  comply  with  his  request,  Mr.  Cornell 
stepped  back  to  the  machine  and  said:  "Hurrah, 
boys;  whip  up  your  mules,  we  must  lay  another 
length  of  pipe  before  we  quit  for  night."  The 
plow  was  started  at  a  lively  pace,  Mr.  Cornell 
grasped  the  handles,  and,  watching  his  oppor- 
tunity, he  suddenly  canted  it  over  so  as  to  catch 
its  blade  on  a  point  of  rock,  breaking  the  machine 
into  a  complete  wreck.  Next  morning  the  papers 
gave  a  graphic  account  of  the  "accident,"  and 
stated  that  there  would  be  a  delay  incident  to 
necessary  repairs. 

It  became  apparent  that  the  wires  must  be 
placed  on  poles,  and  here  again  Mr.  Cornell's 
genius  devised  the  insulators  to  which  the  wires 
were  fastened,  after  another  device  was  shown  to 
be  unsatisfactory. 

The  Baltimore  -  Washington  line  was  success- 
fully completed;  but  with  this  the  introduction  of 
the  telegraph  w^as  hardly  begun.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  fact  that  its  practicability  had  been  proven, 
the  public  remained  disinterested,   because  of  the 

89 


At  Cornell 

belief  that  the  business  would  not  be  sufficient  in 
quantity  to  pay  operating  and  installation  expenses. 
Mr.  Cornell,  however,  remained  firm  in  his  faith, 
and  from  that  time  on  devoted  all  his  efforts  to 
the  establishing  and  operation  of  telegraph  lines 
in  different  parts  of  the  country.  After  a  struggle, 
which  would  have  disheartened  even  the  hardy, 
against  mechanical  and  scientific  mistakes  and 
difficulties,  bitter  and  relentless  rivalry  between 
competing  lines  on  the  one  hand,  and  law  suits 
over  title  and  possession  in  other  cases  —  in  prose- 
cution of  all  which  business  Mr.  Cornell  suffered 
all  kinds  of  exposure  and  a  painful  railroad 
accident;  there  was  finally  accomplished  by  Mr. 
Cornell  and  those  associated  with  him,  the  con- 
solidation, in  1855,  of  all  the  telegraph  interests 
in  the  Northwestern  States,  known  thereafter  as 
the  Western  Union  Telegraph  Company,  and  from 
this  time  on  the  prosperity  of  the  telegraph  busi- 
ness was  assured  and  the  foundations  of  Mr.  Cor- 
nell's fortune  laid. 

After  the  successful  establishment  of  the 
telegraph  enterprise,  Mr.  Cornell  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  pursuits  which  had  always  held  a  great 
attraction  for  him;  spending  his  time  in  travel 
with  his  wife,  and  in  the  creation  of  Forest  Farm, 
a  model  country  property  of  three  hundred  acres 
on  what  is  now  the  site  of  Cornell  University. 
Here  he  established  extensive  orchards  and  bred 
fine  cattle  from  imported  stock,  so  that  the  Farm 

90 


The  Founder  —  Ezra  Cornell 

soon  enjoyed  a  great  and  enviable  reputation 
throughout  the  country. 

Mr.  Cornell  had  always  been  active  politi- 
cally, and  was  greatly  interested  in  public  affairs. 
In  1861  he  was  elected  member  of  the  Assembly 
of  New  York  State,  held  this  office  for  two  terms, 
and  then,  in  1865,  was  elected  to  the  State  Senate, 
which  office  he  also  held  for  two  terms.  While  a 
member  of  this  body  the  founding  of  Cornell 
University,  as  is  related  elsewhere,  was  accomp- 
lished. 

In  that  account,  credit  has  been  given  Mr. 
White  for  the  arduous  creative  and  administrative 
duties  he  performed.  It  remains  here  to  tell  of 
the  business  management  of  the  establishing  of 
Cornell  University,  which  task  fell  entirely  on 
Mr.  Cornell's   shoulders,  and    to    the  promotion  of 


QII|p  Euli  of  i\)e  Suunpl 
91 


At  Cornell 

which   he   devoted  all    his  time   during  the  latter 
years  of  his  life. 

The  land  scrip,  which  came  to  New  York 
State  by  the  provisions  of  the  Morrill  Act,  amounted 
to  nine  million,  four  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
acres,  to  be  located  in  the  state  to  which  it  was 
alloted,  or,  if  no  public  lands  existed  in  that  state, 
to  be  sold;  as  no  state  could  hold  land  within 
the  boundries  of  another  state.  There  were,  at 
that  time,  no  public  lands  in  New  York  State,  and, 
as  a  consequence  of  this  fact  and  similar  conditions 
in  other  states,  the  land  scrip,  nominally  worth 
one  dollar  and  twenty-five  cents  per  acre,  had  fallen 
in  value  to  fifty  cents,  due  to  the  glutting  of  the 
market  by  the  various  state  sales.  Mr.  Cornell 
realized  that  if  the  warrants  could  be  located  on 
well  selected  timber  lands  in  the  Western  States,  a 
much  larger  sum  could  be  realized.  Therefore  he 
endeavored  to  persuade  the  trustees  of  the  Uni- 
versity to  purchase  the  scrip  from  the  State,  and 
themselves  locate  the  lands,  offering  on  his  part, 
to  advance  the  necessary  funds  for  this  purpose. 
However,  the  trustees  were  unwilling  to  incur  the 
additional  burden  of  local  taxes  and  expenses  this 
would  necessitate,  and  Mr.  Cornell,  seeing  no  other 
course  available,  to  save  for  the  cause  the  great 
intrinsic  value  of  the  grant,  offered  to  purchase 
the  scrip  at  sixty  cents,  locate  the  lands  at  his 
own  expense,  pay  the  local  taxes,  and  obligate 
himself  to  pay   into   the   State    treasury,    for   the 

92 


The  Founder — Ezra  Cornell 

benefit  of  Cornell  University,  the  entire  profits  to 
be  realized  later  from  their  sale.  This  offer  was 
accepted,  and  the  contract  executed  in  September, 
1866. 

The  location  of  these  lands  in  the  pine  country 
of  Wisconsin,  and  in  farm  areas  in  Minnesota  and 
Kansas,  was  a  tremendous  task.  Into  this  arduous 
labor  Mr.  Cornell  put  all  his  efforts  for  eight  years, 
finally  succumbing,  in  1874,  to  a  serious  illness 
incurred  by  overtaxation  of  his  strength  in  this 
work.  As  a  result  of  his  efforts,  the  University  real- 
ized not  onlv  the  one  million,  six  hundred  thousand 
dollars  over  and  above  the  sixty  cent  price  which 
Mr.  Cornell  had  figured  might  be  obtained,  but 
approaching  double  that  amount,  practically  three 
millions  of  dollars. 

The  unselfishness  of  these  efforts  was  wholly 
beyond  the  comprehension  of  a  large  part  of  the 
public,  and  during  this  time  Ezra  Cornell  was 
libelled  and  misrepresented,  called  a  land  grabber 
and  corrupt  ion  ist.  These  charges  became  so  open 
and  bitter  that  the  Legislature,  in  1873,  ordered 
an  investigation ;  when  Mr.  Cornell  was  completely 
cleared  and  his  slanderers  effectually  silenced. 
One  must  admit  that  if  the  equal  of  his  task  were 
undertaken  today  by  some  philanthropist,  that 
philanthropist  would  have  to  undergo  the  same 
villification.  Such  disinterested  devotion  is  far 
above  the  average  of  human  nature,  and  the  world 
can  not    believe   in   it  until    it   is  compelled.     The 

93 


At  Cornell 

illness  which  constrained  Mr.  Cornell  to  relinquish 
this  work  in  1874,  resulted  in  his  death  in  October 
of  that  same  year,  and  just  a  few  weeks  after  the 
commissioners  of  the  Land  Office  had  approved  the 
transfer  of  Mr.  Cornell's  contract  to  the  University 
trustees,  so  that  the  full  benefit  of  his  labors,  though 
unfinished,  accrued  to  the  University. 

Ezra  Cornell  was  six  feet  tall,  somewhat  spare 
in  figure,  rugged  of  feature,  with  high  cheek  bones 
and  a  prominent  forehead.  His  muscular  develop- 
ment was  unique,  and  his  love  of  activity  is  evi- 
denced by  his  devotion  to  pedestrianism,  a  form  of 
exercise  he  developed  in  youth  and  never  relin- 
quished. He  could,  and  often  did  walk  forty  miles, 
day  after  day,  without  effort.  In  manner  he  was 
austere  and  abrupt,  though  singularly  free  from 
harshness  in  his  judgements.  This  manner  detracted 
in  some  sense  from  his  popularity.  An  anecdote, 
related  by  President  White,  is  especially  illustrative 
in  this  connection.  A  student  once  said  to  him: 
' '  If  Mr.  Cornell  would  simply  stand  on  his  pedestal 
as  our  'Honored  Founder,'  and  let  us  hurrah  for 
him,  that  would  please  us  mightily;  but  when  he 
comes  into  the  laboratory,  and  asks  us  gruffly: 
'What  are  you  wasting  your  time  at  now?'  we  don't 
like  him  so  well."  The  fact,  on  which  the  remark 
was  based,  was  that  Mr.  Cornell  liked  greatly  to 
walk  quietly  through  the  laboratories  and  drafting 
rooms,  to  note  the  work.  Now  and  then,  when  he 
saw   a   student   doing   something  which   especially 

94 


The  Founder  —  Ezra  Cornell 

interested  him,  he  was  anxious,  as  he  was  wont  to 
say,  "to  see  what  the  fellow  was  made  of,"  and  he 
would  frequently  put  some  provoking  question, 
liking  nothing  better  than  to  receive  a  fitting 
answer. 

Another  story  may  be  appropos  here,  as  it  also 
throws  light  on  Ezra  Cornell's  character.  During 
the  Civil  war  the  young  women  of  the  village  held 
large  sewing  circles  for  the  purpose  of  doing  work 
for  the  soldiers.  Mr.  Cornell  was  asked  to  contribute 
to  their  funds,  and,  to  the  great  surprise  of  those 
present,  he  declined,  saying  dryly:  "Of  course 
these  women  don't  really  come  together  to  sew  for 
the  soldiers;  they  come  together  to  gossip."  On 
the  young  ladies  protesting  the  injustice  of  this,  he 
answered:  "If  you  can  prove  that  I  am  wrong,  I 
will  gladly  contribute;  if  you  only  sew  together  all 
one  afternoon,  and  no  one  of  you  speak  a  word,  I 
will  give  you  a  hundred  dollars."  The  society  met 
and  complete  silence  reigned.  The  young  men  of 
the  community,  hearing  of  this,  and  seeing  an 
admirable  chance  to  tease  their  fair  friends,  came 
in  large  numbers  to  the  sewing  circle,  and  tried  to 
engage  the  women  in  conversation.  At  first  their 
attempts  were  in  vain,  but  finally  a  skillfully  put 
question  evoked  a  reply  from  one  of  the  young 
women.  This  broke  the  spell.  Of  course  the  whole 
assembly  was  very  unhappy;  but,  when  all  was  told 
to  Mr.  Cornell,  he  said:  "They  shall  have  their 
hundred  dollars,  for  they  have  done  better  than  any 

95 


At  Cornell 

other  women  ever  did."  It  must  not  be  understood 
from  this  that  he  was  cynical  toward  womankind. 
His  espousal  of  the  cause  of  co-education,  if  nothing 
else,  would  dispel  any  such  opinion. 

His  tenacity  of  purpose  was  his  most  distin- 
guishing characteristic.  One  reads  it  in  all  his  life, 
and  it  continued  to  the  day  of  his  death.  When 
friends  remonstrated  with  him,  and  urged  him  to 
free  himself  from  the  cares  which  beset  his  last  days, 
he  declared  that  he  was  planning  to  make  "  yet 
another  million  dollars  for  the  University  endow- 
ment."    Was  there  ever  such  another  Founder? 


Qllf*  Att;iroart;  of  Nigljt  —  (fiaarabilla  Ciargr 


96 


Olnrn^U  llfiHtoriral  ilnter^sta 


^JTHE  material  for  the  following  pages  has  been 
Lti  gained  almost  entirely  from  President  White's 
Autobiography ;  a  book  for  which  all  Cor- 
nellians  owe  him  a  profound  debt  of  gratitude — a 
debt  altogether  distinct  from  that  greater  reverence 
which  we  accord  him  for  his  services  to  Cornell. 
To  this  book  we  may  turn  for  the  story  of  Cornell's 
founding,  told  with  the  fullness  of  personal  reminis- 
cence which  is  so  rare;  and  which  for  every  Comel- 
lian  has,  in  this  case,  all  the  charm  of  romance. 
In  its  pages,  the  great  names,  which  we  of  a  younger 
generation  associate  in  a  vague  way  with  the  period 
of  the  University's  beginning,  become  real  men  and 
women;  and  thus  we  are,  even  at  this  later  date, 
permitted  to  breathe  of,  and  profit  by  the  enthusiasm 
with  which  those  men  and  women  entered  upon  the 
heroic  task  of  creating  the  great  University  we  know 
today.  That  its  ideals  and  policies  were  conceived 
in  large  measure  by  President  White,  and  that  his 
genius,  intimately  linked  with  that  of  Ezra  Cornell, 
furnished  the  new  institution  with  the  formative  and 
foundation    ideas    whose    enduring    qualities    have 

99 


At  Cornell 

insured    its   continuous   growth    and    development, 
invests  the  volume  with  no  Uttle  added  interest. 

Mr.  Cornell  and  Mr.  White  first  met  in  1864, 
in  the  senate  at  Albany,  both  men  being  at  the  time 
state  senators,  and  both  holding  the  chairmanship 
of  important  committees  in  that  assembly;  Mr. 
Cornell  that  of  Agriculture,  and  Mr.  White  that  on 
Education.  Although  ordinarily  these  committees 
would  seldom  have  common  interests,  it  so  happened 
that  it  was  this  apparent  very  separation  of  activities 
which  brought  the  two  men  into  the  most  intimate 
relations;  for  one  of  the  first  bills  referred  to  Mr. 
White's  committee  was  one  providing  for  the  incor- 
poration of  a  public  library  which  Mr.  Cornell  pro- 
posed to  found  at  Ithaca,  his  home  town.  As  a 
consequence  of  this,  Mr.  White  and  Mr.  Cornell 
became  acquainted ;  since  projects  of  an  educational 
nature,  such  as  embodied  in  this  bill  for  the  incor- 
poration of  a  public  library,  had  long  possessed  a 
great  interest  for  Mr.  White.  And  then,  a  short 
time  after,  there  was  referred  to  their  joint  commit- 
tees the  matter  of  the  disposition  of  the  New  York 
State  allotment  of  the  Federal  Land  Grant,  accruing 
to  the  state  according  to  the  provisions  of  a  bill 
introduced  in  the  United  States  Congress  by  Mr. 
Morrill  of  Vermont.  By  the  passage  of  this  act,  in 
1862,  each  state  of  the  Union  was  to  receive  a  certain 
amount  of  'land  scrip ' ^ claims  on  the  public  lands 
of  the  United  States — the  proceeds  from  the  sale 
of  which  were  to  be  devoted  to  the  advancement  of 

100 


JFtrat  ^rpHi&pnt  of  tl^p  Itttttfraits 


Cornell  Historical  Interests 

industrial,  technical  and  agricultural  education  in 
that  community. 

Over  the  portion  due  New  York,  a  great 
controversy  had  sprung  up.  In  a  previous  session 
the  whole  grant  had  been  turned  over  to  the  People's 
College  in  Schuyler  County,  under  certain  conditions; 
conditions  which  that  institution  was  eventually 
unable  to  fulfill.  At  this  juncture  Mr.  Cornell  asked 
for  half  the  grant  for  the  Agricultural  College  of 
New  York  State,  of  which  institution  he  was  a 
trustee.  Mr.  White  vigorously  opposed  such  a  divis- 
ion of  the  fund  arguing  that  it  should  be  kept 
intact ;  and  the  resulting  contention  led  to  the  matter 
being  referred  to  the  joint  committees  on  Agriculture 
and  Education.  No  agreement  as  to  the  disposition 
of  the  grant  was  reached  during  that  session;  nor 
did  Mr.  White  accede  to  the  proposition  Mr.  Cornell 
made  at  some  time  in  the  following  summer,  namely, 
that  if  Mr.  White  would  agree  to  the  division,  he, 
Mr.  Cornell,  would  give  to  the  Agricultural  College 
a  sum  equal  to  that  it  would  secure  from  the  grant, 
some  three  hundred  thousand  dollars.  Instead  Mr. 
White  urged  the  founding  of  a  new  institution, 
which  should  receive  the  full  amount  of  the  grant, 
and  to  this  Mr.  Cornell  should  add  his  three  hundred 
thousand  dollars. 

In  the  meantime  a  number  of  sectarian  institu- 
tions had  put  in  claims  for  a  portion  of  the  grant, 
and  it  was  only  after  a  strenuous  fight  that  a  bill, 
embodying  Mr.  White's  proposal  for  a  new  institu- 

103 


At  Cornell 

tion,  was  finally  passed.  By  the  terms  of  this  bill 
Mr.  Cornell  pledged  himself  to  do  even  more  than 
he  had  originally  planned;  he  offered  five  hundred 
thousand  dollars  and  a  site  for  the  new  University. 
Moreover,  he  agreed  to  contribute  twenty-five 
thousand  dollars  to  Genesee  College,  a  rival  claimant 
for  the  land  grant  scrip,  to  insure  the  passing  of 
the  bill.  The  legislature  in  after  years  realized  the 
meanness  of  its  action  in  compelling  Mr.  Cornell  to 
give  this  money  to  the  Genesee  foundation,  and 
voted  a  restitution  of  the  sum.  This  Mr.  Cornell 
refused  to  accept,  but  suggested  that  he  had  no 
objection  to  its  being  given  to  Cornell,  and 
accordingly  Cornell  eventually  received  the  money 
which  her  founder  had  been  made  to  pay  for  the 
privilege  of  being  allowed  to  found  his  own  insti- 
tution. 

While  the  Ithaca  site,  near  his  home  town,  was 
proposed  and  given  by  Mr.  Cornell,  he  himself  never 
suggested  that  the  University  bear  his  name,  and 
only  consented  to  its  use  after  the  precedents  of 
Harvard,  Yale  and  others  were  pointed  out. 

With  funds  and  a  site  secured,  and  building 
operations  begun,  there  yet  remained  the  real  task 
of  founding  the  University ;  namely,  the  assembling 
of  a  faculty,  and  the  obtaining  of  a  complete  equip- 
ment including  furnishings,  books  and  apparatus, 
for  so  comprehensive  an  institution.  Shortly  after 
the  granting  of  the  charter,  Mr.  White,  on  Mr.  Cor- 
nell's nomination,  had  been  elected  President  by  the 

104 


l^raftBBOv  of  EttQltali  l^tatnra.  Emrrttua 


Cornell  Historical  Interests 

trustees;  and  on  the  first  president  of  the  new 
university,  now  devolved  the  initiative  in  this 
enormous  task.  For  such  a  task  Mr.  White  was 
preeminently  fitted,  as  he  had  for  many  years  been 
building  air  castle  universities,  and  his  mind  had 
thus  been  long  imbued  with  ideas  of  what  was  good 
in  the  older  institutions,  and  what  changes  for 
improvement  could  be  made  in  an  institution  which 
could  be  condition  and  tradition  free,  as  this  new 
Cornell  now  promised  to  offer. 

Realizing  the  impossibility,  in  general,  of  secur- 
ing the  leading  professors  to  accept  positions  in  the 
new  school ;  and  yet  feeling  the  need  of  their  enthu- 
siasm and  prestige,  he  asked  their  interest  and 
confidence  for  the  new  institution — asked  a  number 
to  themselves  accept  non-resident  professorships  and 
lectureships,  and  also  invited  their  confidential  and 
particular  cooperation  in  securing  for  Cornell  the 
best  of  the  young  men  they  were  training,  to  be 
Cornell's  future  professors. 

The  successful  outcome  of  this  plan  enabled 
Cornell  students  to  enjoy  the  privilege  of  hearing 
Agassiz,  Lowell,  Curtis,  Froude,  Freeman  and  others 
of  the  contemporary  notables  in  the  early  days  of 
the  institution. 

The  purchase  of  books  and  apparatus  occupied 
months  of  President  White's  time  in  Europe;  and 
here,  again,  the  University's  funds  were  eked  out 
in  many  cases,  by  gifts  from  both  Mr.  Cornell  and 
President  White  himself. 

107 


At  Cornell 

Finally,  on  September  7,  1868,  came  the  formal 
opening  of  the  University.  Mr.  Cornell  had  been  in 
the  West,  placing  the  land  scrip  of  the  grant  and 
enduring  many  hardships;  while  Mr.  White,  after 
his  return  from  Europe,  had  toiled  to  the  utmost 
of  his  strength  to  get  things  in  shape  for  the  day. 
The  contractors  were  found  behind  in  their  work; 
tons  of  scientific  material  had  accumulated,  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  needed  material  was  delayed  in 
shipment;  and  everything  needed  to  be  unpacked 
and  assorted  by  men  who  understood  its  nature  and 
value.  Students,  moreover,  came  earlier  and  in 
greater  numbers  than  had  been  expected,  and  in 
consequence  of  the  attendant  hurry  and  worry, 
which  all  this  occasioned,  both  Mr.  Cornell  and 
President  White  were  ill  on  the  opening  day  of  the 
University,  and  had  to  be  taken  in  carriages  to  the 
hall  where  the  exercises  were  held. 

Mr.  Cornell,  seated  in  a  chair,  read  his  address 
in  a  low  tone ;  his  physical  condition  being  such  as 
to  forbid  his  speaking,  standing.  In  his  closing 
remarks  he  said:  "We  have  not  invited  you  to  see 
a  university  finished,  but  to  see  one  begun;"  and 
thus  gave  an  answer  which  should  endure  for  all 
critics  who,  on  opening  days,  cavil  because  the  walls 
of  a  new  institution  are  not  yet  ivy-covered.  Presi- 
dent White  then  followed  with  a  speech  outlining 
the  plan  of  organization,  and  alluded  to  Mr.  Cornell's 
efforts  in  behalf  of  the  new  university.  The  reaction 
of  these  efforts  on  the  man  was  so  plainly  evidenced 

108 


Cornell  Historical  Interests 

by  his  physical  condition  that,  with  a  proper  under- 
standing of  the  reason  for  it,  the  audience  was 
greatly  affected. 

These  addresses  were  given  in  the  morning, 
and  downtown  in  Ithaca.  Exercises  were  held  on 
the  Campus  in  the  afternoon.  Of  these  the  notable 
feature  was  the  speech  by  George  William  Curtis. 
Mr.  Curtis  ended  his  speech  with  a  peroration  which 


Till)  CunujU  '!;hih"ccsttj|; 
Jirst  Ai^i^'tal  ^omTirrncemeal 

jniui.  •-••jRsr.t.i.  i.atkAKr  hall 


\x  y 


,^' 


(I, 


fiiy. 


-VV^ 


^i^:^ 
4 


"■off. 


"'■'  'C;,. 


fvnt: 


"". 


V 


.«^^ 


x^'^' 


X«i**''^ 


Jfrmn  titt  Ji^irat  (Hatatll  0tunt  ?Baok 

109 


At  Cornell 

splendidly  awoke  in  all  those  present  that  same 
enthusiasm  for  Cornell  which  had  swayed,  absolutely, 
the  activity  of  its  founder  and  first  president  during 
the  past  years. 

Mr.  Curtis  compared  the  new  University  to  a 
newly  launched  ship — "all  its  sails  set,  its  rigging 
full  and  complete  from  stem  to  stem,  its  crew 
embarked,  its  passengers  on  board;  and,"  he  added, 
"even  while  I  speak  to  you,  even  while  the  autimin 
sun  sets  in  the  west,  the  ship  begins  to  glide  over 
the  waves,  it  goes  forth  rejoicing,  every  stitch  of 
canvas  spread,  all  its  colors  flying,  its  bells  ringing, 
its  heartstrings  beating  with  hope  and  joy,  and  I 
say,  'God  bless  the  ship,  God  bless  the  builder,  God 
bless  the  chosen  captain,  God  bless  the  crew,  and, 
gentlemen  undergraduates,  may  God  bless  all  the 
passengers!'"  Then  in  the  midst  of  the  cheering 
there  burst  forth  for  the  first  time,  and  right  merrily, 
the  chimes;  Miss  Jennie  McGraw's  gift  of  sentiment 
to  the  new  University.  What  a  moment  that  must 
have  been,  what  a  glorious  time^-felt  even  more 
strongly  now,  as  we  look  back  upon  that  first  day 
from  the  present,  in  its  achievement,  and  embody 
those  opening  scenes  in  the  light  of  our  imagination! 

From  that  time  on,  date  student  days.  These 
were  indeed  strenuous  in  the  beginning  of  things, 
and  this  was  due  in  part  to  the  announcement  of  Mr. 
Cornell,  always  in  sympathy  with  needy  and  meritor- 
ious young  men,  that  such  could  support  themselves 
by  working  one-half  day,  while  pursuing  their  studies 

110 


Jlrmifttt  Karab  (^atdb  ^rliurman 


Cornell  Historical  Interests 

in  the  University  during  the  other  half.  Many 
came  in  response  to  this  offer;  some  who  were 
skilled  mechanics  were  profitably  employed;  but  it 
was  found  in  the  case  of  many,  that  it  was 
cheaper  to  support  them  at  the  hotels  and  employ 
day  laborers  than  to  keep  them  at  work.  Where 
Barnes  Hall  and  Sage  College  now  stand  was  then 
a  corn  field,  and  typical  of  this  student  labor,  says 
President  White,  was  the  husking  of  com  by  the 
students;  the  husking  was  found  to  cost  more  than 
the  resultant  corn  could  be  sold  for  in  the  market! 
Again,  Mr.  Cornell's  expression:  "I  would  found  an 
institution  where  any  person  can  find  instruction  in 
any  study"  (which  was  adopted  as  the  University 
motto),  brought  many  applicants  who  insisted  that 
they  be  taught  reading  and  writing ! 

From  the  first,  in  accordance  with  President 
White's  ideas,  the  students  were  treated  as  responsi- 
ble citizens,  and  the  members  of  the  faculty  relieved 
of  policemen's  duties.  This  did  not  cover  all  cases, 
however,  and  one,  where  faculty  discipline  had  to 
be  invoked,  has  a  humor  which  the  President's 
account  makes  irresistable. 

"Various  complaints  had  been  made  against  a 
stalwart  New  Englander,  somewhat  above  the  usual 
student  age,  and  finally  he  was  summoned  before 
the  faculty  for  a  very  singular  breach  of  good  taste, 
if  not  of  honesty.  The  culprit  stood  solemnly  before 
the  entire  instructing  body,  gathered  about  the  long 
table  in  the  faculty  room.     Various  questions  were 

»  113 


At  Cornell 

asked  him  which  he  parried  with  great  ingenuity. 
At  last  one  was  asked  of  a  very  pecuHar  sort,  as 

follows:     "Mr.  ,  did  you,  last  month,  in  the 

village  of  Dundee,  Yates  County,  pass  yourself  off 

as  Professor ,  of  this  University,  ■  announcing 

a  lecture  and  delivering  it  in  his  name?"  He 
answered  blandly:  "Sir,  I  did  go  to  Dundee,  in 
Yates  County;    I  did  deliver  a  lecture  there;    I  did 

not  announce  myself  as  Professor of  Cornell 

University;  what  others  may  have  done  I  do  not 
know;  all  I  know  is  that  at  the  close  of  my  lecture, 
several  leading  men  of  the  town  came  forward  and 
said  that  they  had  heard  a  good  many  lectures  given 
by  college  professors,  from  all  parts  of  the  State, 
and  that  they  had  never  had  one  as  good  as  mine." 
I  think  of  all  the  strains  upon  my  risible  faculties, 
during  my  life,  this  answer  provoked  the  greatest, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  faculty  were  clearly  in  the 
same  condition.  I  dismissed  the  youth  at  once,  and 
hardly  was  he  outside  the  door  when  a  burst  of 
titanic  laughter  shook  the  court,  and  the  youth  was 
troubled  no  more." 

The  lecture  system,  developed  now  perhaps  too 
generally,  was  typical  of  Cornell  instruction  from 
the  first;  and  that  at  a  time  when  other  institu- 
tions commonly  gave  instruction  by  recitation  from 
books,  "  weary  plodding  and  gerund  grinding."  The 
lecture  system  in  its  ideal  phase  makes  it  incumbent 
upon  the  eminent  professor  who  holds  the  chair,  to 
give  of  his  best,  brightest,  original  thoughts  directly 

114 


,  '-^•^dft^V^S^KSSi^^^'- 


iftram  (Haraan 
PrnfjpBBOr  of  EngltBlj,  iEmpritua 


Cornell  Historical  Interests 

to  the  student  audience.  In  the  other  system,  the 
weary  grind  of  the  book  recitation  destroyed  all  the 
natural  enthusiasm  which  the  teacher  possessed  for 
his  subject,  and,  as  a  result,  he  had  hardly  a  word 
of  comment  to  add  to  the  text.  Thus  all  the  inspira- 
tion which  should  come  from  a  University  instructor 
was  lost.  Therefore,  a  mighty  impulse  was  given 
the  young  Cornell  by  the  lectures  of  the  non-resident 
professors,  as  for  example,  the  twenty  delivered  by 
Agassiz,  who  declared  that  the  region  about  Cornell 
afforded  the  finest  field  laboratory  for  all  branches 
of  natural  science  of  which  he  had  knowledge. 

Again,  the  elective  system,  which  also  has  its 
widest  scope  at  Cornell,  had  its  inception  in  the  idea 
that,  regardless  of  the  disciplinary  value  which  the 
study  may  have  for  the  general  student,  those 
students  who  love  it  ought  not  be  held  back  by 
perhaps  a  majority  in  a  class,  who  dislike  it. 

The  college  man  of  today  has  practically  over- 
come the  prejudice  which,  in  the  past,  his  purely 
theoretical  training  aroused  among  practical  men. 
Especially  was  this  prejudice  felt  in  the  case  of  the 
engineer.  It  was  a  need  therefore,  of  manual  train- 
ing, which  led  Mr.  Hiram  Sibley,  Ezra  Cornell's 
associate  in  the  telegraph  enterprise,  to  build  and 
equip  a  college  of  mechanic  arts,  the  beginning  of 
the  Sibley  College  of  today ;  and  today  certainly  one 
of  the  most  successful  departments  of  its  kind  in 
the  world.  In  1876,  an  exhibit  was  made  at  the 
Centennial    Exhibition,    of    work    done    by    Sibley 

117 


At  Cornell 

students,  including  a  steam  engine  and  power  lathes; 
but  Sibley  College  of  Cornell,  had  to  await  a  later 
time  for  the  recognition  which  the  excellence  of  this 
exhibit  merited.  For,  as  President  White  says,  the 
New  England  authorities  paid  no  especial  attention 
to  it,  her  wise  men  being  prevented  from  recognizing 
that  any  good  could  come  from  the  Nazareth  of 
western  New  York.  In  Cornell  too,  in  connection 
with  Sibley,  was  established  the  first  department  of 
electrical  engineering  that  the  world  has  known. 

From  the  very  outset  of  the  University's  organ- 
ization the  word  man  was  avoided  in  all  documents 
where  the  student  was  mentioned,  and  the  term 
'person'  substituted.  This  was  done  deliberately, 
with  the  thought  in  mind  of,  in  time,  admitting 
women.  Probably  encouraged  by  this,  a  young 
woman  in  the  second  year  of  the  University's  career 
applied  for,  and  was  granted  admission,  but  was 
compelled,  later  in  the  winter,  to  give  up  her  college 
work  because  the  difficulty  and  toil  involved  in 
climbing  up  the  slope  from  her  lodgings  in  town 
was  too  great  for  her  strength.  This  incident  led 
to  the  proposal,  founding  and  endowing  by  Mr. 
Henry  Sage  of  Sage  College,  as  a  dormitory  for 
women  students,  and  quarters  for  the  Botanical 
department,  which  was  then  felt  to  be  a  science  in 
which  women  had  an  especial  interest  and  possessed 
a  special  aptitude. 

Today,  two  general  ideas  are  felt  to  underlie 
the  opposition  of  the  male  students  of  the  University 

lis 


Cornell  Historical  Interests 


to  co-education.  The  first  is  that  the  presence  of 
the  women  affects  unfavorably  the  prestige  of  the 
school  among  college  men  of  the  older  schools  in 
the  east,  where  the  women  are  segregated  in  separate 
colleges.  The  second,  which,  while  somewhat  divert- 
ing, appears  none  the  less,  is  that  many  of  the  men 
have  sweethearts  at  home  or  in  women's  colleges, 
who  twit  them  about  the  co-eds.  On  the  other 
hand,  both  Mr.  Cornell  and  Mr.  White  favored  the 
idea,  and  it,  of  all  others,  had  the  approval  of  Mr. 
White's  mother.  The  faculty  is  reported  as  finding, 
'that  it  tends  to  lessen  disorder  and  roughness  in 
classroom  and  campus  and  to  promote  neatness 
among  the  students  of  both  sexes.'  Some  opposition 
to    the    presence    of   the    women    comes    from    the 


119 


At  Cornell 

faculty,  however,  when  themes  tabooed  in  society 
must  be  discussed  freely  in  the  classroom,  and,  at 
an  early  date,  from  the  fear  that  it  would  lead  to 
much  "spooning,"  or  as  the  Comellian  of  today  has 
it,  of  "fussing."  This  has  hardly  been  the  case; 
on  the  other  hand,  such  attachments  as  have  resulted, 
indicate  a  possibility  which  is  much  more  character- 
istic of  western  schools,  where  social  lines  are  not 
so  artifically  marked.  This  possibility  is  a  function 
which  may,  perhaps,  belong  more  properly,  in 
general,  to  the  churches  of  a  community,  but  which, 
until  now,  the  division  of  creeds  has  made  difficult. 
It  is  to  promote  an  acquaintance  among  young 
people  of  moderate  circumstances  outside  of  the 
often  narrow  circle  of  the  family,  or  single  church 
associations,  in  which  they  have  been  brought  up. 
That  such  acquaintances  are  often  fostered  by  other 
social  opportunities  as,  for  example,  the  semi-public 
dances  of  various  fraternal  associations,  is  true,  but 
these  are  often  of  an  unfortunate  character,  and 
thus  the  contact  of  the  sexes,  the  meeting  of  young 
men  and  women  of  character  and  intelligence,  though 
perhaps  in  moderate  circumstances,  from  widely 
different  sections  of  the  country,  may  not  be  regarded 
altogether  as  a  calamity,  but  rather  as  an  alleviator 
of  a  social  poverty  which  tends  to  the  formation  of 
class  and  caste. 

This  broadening  influence  is  felt  even  more 
strongly  in  the  establishment  of  Sage  Chapel,  which 
was  closely  connected  with  the  founding  of  Sage 

120 


Cornell  Historical  Interests 

College,  for  with  the  building  of  Sage  Chapel,  came 
the  founding  of  an  unsectarian  pulpit.  Whether  as 
a  result  of  the  early  policy  of  choosing  the  promising 
young  graduates  of  the  recognized  masters  in  any 
field,  for  places  in  the  Cornell  faculty,  instead  of 
attempting  to  induce  the  masters  to  come  perman- 
ently themselves;  whether  this  is  the  reason  or  no, 
certain  it  is  that  we  have  at  Cornell,  teachers  and 
workers,  rather  than  the  world's  torch  bearers. 
And  yet  the  partial  departure  from  this  plan,  in 
endowing  an  unsectarian  preachership,  and  inviting, 
on  succeeding  Sundays,  the  leading  divines  of  all 
denominations,  to  fill  the  pulpit,  called  forth  the 
most  adverse  criticism.  The  religious  belief  of  the 
public,    no   matter   how   varied,    stands   unified    in 


At  Cornell 

opposition  to  any  proposal  which  tends  to  put 
Christianity  above  all  creeds,  in  the  same  manner 
that  Goldwin  Smith  thinks  of  Humanity  above  all 
nations.  Nevertheless,  the  plan  has  proven  most 
successful,  and  the  inspiration  which  comes  from 
listening  to  some  of  the  world's  greatest  religious 
teachers,  is  a  factor  large  in  the  future  of  Comellians 
who  throng  the  Chapel  at  each  service. 

The  building  of  the  present  Library  was  the 
final  outcome  of  the  "Great  Will  Case,"  which  con- 
test will  be  remembered  always  as  a  tempestuous 
and  dramatic  time  in  the  history  of  Cornell.  Miss 
Jennie  McGraw,  whose  gift  of  the  Chimes,  at  the 
time  of  the  opening  of  the  University,  has  been 
mentioned,  later  married  a  Cornell  professor,  Willard 
Fiske.  Her  married  life  was  very  happy,  but  her 
death,  occurring  before  the  second  anniversary  of 
her  wedding,  made  it  very  brief.  On  opening  her 
will,  it  was  found  that,  after  making  ample  provision 
for  those  near  and  dear  to  her,  she  had  left  nearly 
two  million  dollars  to  Cornell,  of  which  by  far  the 
greater  part  was  to  be  used  for  a  University  Library. 
Into  this  purpose  her  husband  entered  heartily  at 
first,  but  following  on  the  discovery  that  the  limita- 
tions as  to  the  amount  of  its  endowment,  embodied 
in  the  University's  charter,  would  not  admit  the 
acceptance  of  the  gift;  there  came  difficulties  also, 
between  Professor  Fiske  and  the  members  of  the 
trustee  board,  and  a  reconcilement  proved  impossi- 
ble.   Although  the  University  contested  through  the 

122 


Cornell  Historical  Interests 

Supreme  Court,  the  setting  aside  of  the  will,  the 
decisions  were  all  adverse.  Afterwards  the  charter 
was  amended  so  that  the  University  now  has  full 
power  to  accept  such  gifts,  and  the  future  growth 
and  standing  of  Cornell  will  depend,  almost  entirely, 
on  an  increasing  of  her  endowment  by  gifts  and 
bequests  from  loyal  alumni  and  benefactors. 

In  recent  years,  at  the  death  of  Professor  Fiske, 
more  than  a  half  million  dollars  of  this  money  came 
to  the  University  as  an  endowment  for  the  Library, 
but  at  the  time,  all  seemed  lost.  But  at  that  time, 
Henry  W.  Sage  came  forward  with  a  gift  of  six  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars,  one-half  of  which  was  for  a 
library  building,  and  the  other  half  for  an  endow- 
ment; and  with  this  sum  the  Library  was  built  and 
many  of  its  volumes  have  been  purchased.  There- 
fore, the  inscription,  on  bronze,  in  the  doorway: 

"  Wi\t  gonb  aljr  tvXtb  to  J10  atyaU  atatrii  aa  if  'taxttt  \iont ; 
<&aik  fixxxa^ta  li;?  umrk  bg  nabU  axiula  brgun." 


123 


(Ulfp  JffiBkp-iirOiratu  iMattainn 
nnh  %  CHlft  fat  Wm 


m 


anin  llj^  Olljt  fat  3m 

^  I  HE  burning  of  the  old  McGraw-Fiske  mansion, 
IJ/  and  its  attendant  tragedy,  must  forever 
remain  memorable  in  the  annals  of  Cornell. 
For  years  the  mansion  had  been  celebrated  for  its 
beauty  and  its  commanding  position,  and  when  it 
was  destroyed  by  fire  on  the  seventh  of  December, 
in  1906,  the  calamity  was  marked  by  a  tragedy  so 
appalling,  and  deeds  of  heroism  so  bright,  that 
those  who  witnessed  the  fire,  or  know  the  story, 
can  never  quite  separate  the  feeling  of  pain  and 
sorrow  which  the  memory  of  the  event  evokes, 
from  the  feeling  of  joy  and  pride  of  the  Cornell  men 
who  there  showed  the  mettle  of  heroes. 

All  the  history  of  the  mansion  was  eventful. 
It  was  originally  built  for  Mrs.  Jennie  McGraw-Fiske, 
wife  of  Professor  Willard  Fiske.  Mrs.  Fiske  was 
Miss  Jennie  McGraw,  the  donor  of  the  original 
Cornell  Chimes,  and,  at  the  time  when  the  building 
was  started,  in  1879,  was  traveling  abroad  and  left 
the  plans  for  the  mansion  almost  entirely  in  the 
hands  of  the  architect,  Mr.  William  H.  Miller,  of 

127 


At  Cornell 

Ithaca.  After  her  marriage,  Mrs.  Fiske  returned  to 
this  country,  but  died  in  Ithaca,  in  1881,  before  she 
was  able  to  occupy  the  house.  Thus  from  the  time 
of  its  completion  until  1896  the  building  remained 
untenanted.  On  the  death  of  Mrs.  Fiske,  the  prop- 
erty came  under  the  supervision  of  the  McGraw 
estate,  who  bought  it  in  at  auction.  In  1896  it  was 
sold  to  Mr.  E.  G.  Wyckoff,  who,  in  the  same  year, 
disposed  of  it  to  the  Chi  Psi  fraternity;  and  it  was 
occupied  by  the  chapter  from  that  time  on  until  its 
destruction  by  fire. 

Although  the  mansion  cost  the  fraternity  only 
fifty  thousand  dollars,  the  approximate  valuation  of 
the  structure  and  the  site  was  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars. 
The  mansion  had  for  its  model  a  famous  French 
chateau  near  Blois,  and  was  constructed  of  Indiana 
limestone  and  yellow  brick.  Upon  the  walls  of  its 
large  foyer  were  medallions,  set  by  the  most  skillful 
mosaic  workers  of  Rome  and  Venice — men  brought 
to  this  country  for  the  purpose.  This  central  foyer 
extended  to  the  height  of  two  stories,  and  the 
sleeping  apartments  were  distributed  around  an 
orriate  balcony  that  gave  access  to  them.  A  circular 
tower,  with  an  apex  of  slate-covered  steel,  gave  a 
decidedly  medieval  aspect  to  the  structure.  Inside 
it  was  not  less  noteworthy.  Its  beautiful  woodwork 
and  the  designs  of  the  fixtures  were  imported  from 
Europe.  The  decoration  of  the  library  and  hall 
attracted    especial    attention.       Here    was    wood- 

128 


The  Fiske-McGraw  Mansion  and  the  Chi  Psi  Fire 

work  imported  from  Italy,  and  fitted  together  by 
the  best  cabinet-makers  that  could  be  found  in  this 
country. 

The  Fiske-McGraw  mansion  occupied  an  ideal 
site.  Town,  lake  and  hillside;  and  a  sky  unbounded, 
except  in  the  east,  were  in  the  wide  panorama  which 
its  windows  commanded.  To  it  many  classes  of 
Cornellians  have  led  their  visiting  friends;  and  to 
native  Ithaca  the  mansion  was  always  a  wonder- 
place,  and  it  had  long  become  a  landmark.  Then, 
on  December  seventh,  1906,  in  the  early  morn- 
ing hours,  the  historic  mansion  flashed  into  flames; 
and  had  crumbled  into  ruins  before  even  a  glint  of 
the  dawn  showed  in  the  east. 

It  was  icy  cold  and  black  dark  that  December 
night.  The  wind  blew  a  gale  whose  velocity  was 
forty  miles  an  hour.  Fitful  snow-flurries,  blinding 
while  they  lasted,  came  at  intervals.  No  warning 
of  the  impending  disaster  had  come  to  the  inmates 
of  the  doomed  mansion  when  they  retired  at  mid- 
night. But  even  then,  perhaps,  the  flames  were 
creeping  out  unseen,  and,  not  long  after,  must  have 
been  blazing  freely  in  the  lower  part  of  the  building ; 
their  ominous  crackle  drowned  in  the  roar  of  the 
storm  raging  outside.  No  one  was  abroad  at  that 
hour,  leastways  in  such  a  storm;  no  one  saw  the 
flames  as  they  spread  from  room  to  room,  below, 
and  from  floor  to  floor,  above,  and  so  through  the 
fated  mansion.  Then  only,  and  at  almost  the  same  in- 
stant, most  of  the  sleepers  awoke,  and  there  began 

131 


At  Cornell 

the  series  of  encounters  with  Death,  which,  whether 
they  ended  in  victory  or  defeat,  were  all  marked  by 
a  calm  heroism  beautiful  in  its  unanimity. 

The  first  alarm  was  telephoned  downtown  by  a 
professor's  wife,  whose  residence  was  across  the  gorge 
on  Cornell  Heights,  and  who  was  aroused  by  the 
screams  of  the  students  who  had  escaped  to  the  roof 
of  the  burning  building.  At  that  time,  forty  minutes 
past  three,  the  mansion  was  already  enveloped  in 
flames.  But  it  was  an  hour  later  before  a  stream  of 
water  had  been  directed  at  the  flames,  due  to  a 
confusion  in  giving  alarms,  such  as  must  often  be 
attendant  in  a  volunteer  fire  department  on  the 
occasion  of  a  crisis.  In  the  meantime  the  cries  had 
also  awakened  the  men  in  other  fraternity  houses 
nearby,  and  thus,  long  before  the  arrival  of  the  fire 
department,  the  drama  of  escape  and  death  had 
been  enacted.  Before  any  of  the  men  were  awakened, 
all  egress  by  the  stairways  had  been  cut  off. 

Twenty-six  members  of  the  fraternity  were 
asleep  in  the  building.  There  were  no  rope  fire- 
escapes,  so  that  the  only  hope  of  rescue  lay  in  getting 
out  on  a  window  sill,  and  from  there  to  the  ground; 
or  else  climbing  to  the  roof,  and  either  climbing  or 
jumping  from  it.  The  sleeping  rooms  were,  in  every 
case,  filled  with  smoke  when  the  men  awoke;  in 
some  the  flames  were  already  gaining  entrance; 
there  was  no  time  to  secure  any  clothing. 

Grelle,  Pope,  Uihlein  and  DeCamp  first  climbed 
to  the  roof.     Their  cries  gave  the  alarm.     On  the 

132 


3«tPrinr  nf  tlje  ManHtnn 


The  Fiske-McGraw  Mansion  and  the  Chi  Psi  Fire 

roof  they  separated.  DeCamp  and  Uihlein  escaped 
by  climbing  down  the  vines  along  the  outside  wall 
for  some  distance,  and  then  jumping  to  the  ground. 
Pope  and  Grelle  determined  to  try  other  means  of 
escape.  Pope  led  the  way  and  they  reached  a  place 
on  the  roof  directly  over  the  window  of  McCutcheon's 
room.  Here  Pope  swung  over  and  down,  and  kicked 
in  the  window.  Immediately  the  flames  shot  out 
and  enveloped  him.  He  let  go  his  hold  and  fell  to 
the  ground.  Then,  recovering,  he  ran  across  the 
lawns  to  the  Phi  Kappa  Psi  house,  about  two  hun- 
dred yards  away,  and  aroused  its  occupants  by  his 
screams.  Almost  crazed  by  the  pain  of  his  bums, 
he  collapsed  as  soon  as  the  doors  were  opened.  He 
was  taken  to  the  hospital  later,  and,  although  his . 
life  was  despaired  of  for  days,  he  eventually 
recovered. 

It  is  impossible  to  tell  the  events  of  those 
minutes  coherently  and  connectedly,  because  they 
occurred  simultaneously.  While  Pope  and  Grelle 
were  climbing  over  the  roof  toward  McCutcheon's 
rooms,  McCutcheon  himself  was  being  rescued  by 
his  room-mate,  Curry.  Curry  awoke  to  find  the 
room  filled  with  a  dense  smoke.  Half  unconscious, 
he  broke  out  upon  a  balcony  through  a  window,  and 
after  being  revived  there  by  the  fresh  air,  returned 
to  McCutcheon,  who  was  unconscious.  He  attempted 
to  carry  McCutcheon  out,  but  failed,  and  barely 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  balcony  again.  Once  more 
he  tried,  and  this  time  managed  to  drag  McCutcheon, 

135 


At  Cornell 

whose  night  clothes  were  now  in  flames,  to  the 
window.  Here  he  found  himself  exhausted  by  his 
efforts,  and  could  not  take  the  body  to  the  balcony. 
But  help  had  arrived.  Halliday,  Gibson  and  Good- 
speed,  men  from  the  Alpha  Delta  Phi  house,  who 
had  also  been  aroused  by  the  cries  of  the  men  on 
the  roof,  had  brought  two  ladders  with  them,  and, 
climbing  from  these  over  the  snow-covered  slating, 
they  secured  McCutcheon  at  the  window,  and  carried 
him  to  the  ground.  His  burns  were,  however,  fatal; 
he  died  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  after  only 
a  few  minutes  of  consciousness.  Curry,  after  McCut- 
cheon's  rescue,  reentered  the  house  for  a  third  time, 
in  a  vain  effort  to  find  Nichols  and  Grelle,  but, 
baffled  by  the  flames  and  smoke,  was  compelled  to 
give  up,  and,  covered  with  cuts  and  bums,  had  to 
be  assisted  to  the  Infirmary. 

We  return  now  to  Grelle,  who  was  left  behind 
on  the  roof  after  Pope  had  fallen  to  the  ground. 
The  flames  from  the  window  which  Pope  had  kicked 
in,  swept  toward  the  roof  and  Grelle  stepped  back 
to  escape  their  heat,  only  to  fall  into  a  skylight, 
from  w^hence  he  dropped  into  a  closet  near  McCut- 
cheon's  room.  He  was  seen  to  come  into  the  room 
from  which  Curry  and  McCutcheon  had  been  rescued, 
and  make  for  a  window.  Just  as  he  reached  it,  the 
floor  gave  way  and  he  disappeared  from  view. 
Death  had  claimed  two  victims. 

Six  freshmen.  String,  Matchner,  Lamb,  Matthai, 
and  two  Williams  boys,  brothers,  slept  in  one  large 

136 


The  Fiske-McGraw  Mansion  and  the  Chi  Psi  Fire 

room  on  the  third  floor.  They  got  out  through  a 
window,  and  crept  for  twenty  feet  along  a  three- 
inch  ledge,  about  sixty  feet  from  the  ground.  After 
successive  jumps  to  a  balcony,  and  from  thence  to 
a  porch  •  roof,  they  finally  dropped  safely  to  the 
ground. 

O.  L.  Schmuck,  a  senior,  had  made  his  way  to 
the  gutter  of  the  upper  roof,  through  a  gable  window, 
when  -he  remembered  that  his  room-mate,  W.  H. 
Nichols,  also  a  senior,  was  yet  in  the  house.  With 
the  greatest  fortitude,  he  reentered  the  room,  then 
a  mass  of  flames,  to  save  him.  The  task  was  hope- 
less, and  with  clothing  in  flames,  Schmuck  regained 
the  window  and  dove  through  it  to  the  ground,  three 
stories  below.  His  fall  was  broken  by  a  bush,  but 
he  received  injuries  which  caused  his  death  in  the 
Infirmary  a  few  hours  afterward.  "He  died  indeed, 
but  his  work  lives,  very  truly  lives." 

Requardt  was  another  of  those  who  gained  the 
roof.  From  thence  he  jumped,  and  landed  astride, 
on  a  gable  ten  feet  below,  injuring  himself  so  pain- 
fully as  to  become  all  but  unconscious.  While  he 
clung  there,  he  heard  a  scream  and  turned  just  in 
time  to  see  Schmuck  dive  through  the  window  and 
fall  to  the  ground.  Then  he  leaped  himself  and 
put  out  the  flames  which  were  enveloping  Schmuck 's 
body. 

Bamberger  and  Turner  were  in  a  room  on  the 
second  floor,  directly  under  that  of  McCutcheon. 
They  aroused  Pew,  who  was  in  the  next  room,  and 

137 


At  Cornell 

he  joined  them.  With  a  rope  made  of  bedclothes, 
Bamberger  lowered  Pew  and  Turner  to  the  ground, 
and  then  slid  down  himself.  Andrews  and  Goetz 
made  a  rope  of  sheets  which  reached  halfway  from 
the  third  story  to  the  ground.  Andrews  descended 
first,  and  the  rope  gave  way  when  he  reached  the 
second  story.  Goetz's  only  recourse  was  to  jump, 
which  he  did,  escaping  with  some  severe  muscular 
strains. 

But  the  roll  of  death  was  not  yet  complete. 
The  furious  north  wind,  unabated,  fanned  the  flames 
so  that  no  amount  of  water  could  quench  them. 
Only  ruined  walls,  on  the  exterior,  and  a  flaming 
mass  inside,  remained  at  six  o'clock.  At  seven, 
most  of  the  firemen  and  spectators  had  left  the 
scene.  But  at  that  time  three  firemen  were  still 
directing  a  stream  through  a  window  on  the  north 
side  of  the  ruin,  when,  without  warning,  the  massive 
stone  wall  fell  outwards,  directly  in  the  face  of  the 
wind,  and  crushed  the  three,  Messrs.  Rumsey, 
Robinson  and  Landon.  Seven  had  now  given  up 
their  lives  and  Death  was  appeased. 

Such,  in  brief,  is  the  story  of  the  Chi  Psi  fire. 
It  seems  as  though  one  should  add  some  comment 
on  this  story  of  extraordinary  rescue  and  escape; 
and  death  most  heroic.  Yet,  what  can  one  say? 
The  deeds  speak  for  themselves  more  adequately 
than  any  phrase.  Today  another  structure  occupies 
the  site  of  the  historic  mansion,  but  the  memory 
of  the  latter,  its  tragic  end,  and  of  the  actors  in  that 

138 


The  Fiske-McGraw  Mansion  and  the  Chi  Psi  Fire 

drama,  can  not  be  effaced.  "The  pride  of  the  deed 
will  remain  after  the  bitterness  of  grief  has  passed, 
and  every  man  with  the  stamp  of  Cornell  upon  him, 
will  stand  straighter  at  the  thought:  They  had 
tasted  the  flames,  but  they  went  back.  They  went 
hack.'' 


139 


iEartij  Iftatnra  ttt  t\\t  Olorn^U  fflnutttrg 


iEartlj  l|tBt0rg  xxf  llf^  QIorttFll  OIntintrg 

^iN  BAEDEKER'S  guide  book  for  the  United 
J1I    States,  one  reads  that:    "The  romantic  gorges, 

near  Ithaca,  contain,  perhaps,  a  greater  number 
of  pretty  waterfalls  and  cascades,  than  can  be  found 
in  any  equal  area  elsewhere."  Coming  from  Baede- 
ker, this  is  "praise  from  Sir  Hubert."  As  regards 
this  region  again.  Professor  Tarr,  Cornell's  physio- 
grapher, is  certainly  no  lesser  authority  than  Baede- 
ker, and  he  also  has  written:  "Waterfalls  and 
gorges  in  Europe,  which  can  not  be  compared,  in 
beauty  or  interest,  with  a  score  of  glens  in  the  Finger 
Lake  region,  are  far  better  known  to  the  traveling 
American  than  Watkins  Glen."  Thus  as  a  prophet 
is  not  without  honor,  except  in  his  own  country,  so, 
in  some  degree,  it  is  the  case  with  the  natural  fea- 
tures of  the  region  about  Cornell. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  this  is  due  in 
part,  as  is  lack  of  appreciation  of  many  natural 
features  of  great  interest,  to  the  want  of  knowledge, 
on  part  of  the  general  public,  as  to  their  significance; 
how  they  came  to  be  so,  and  how  they  are  changing. 
And  while,  as  yet,  no  man  can  read  all  the  book  of 

143 


At  Cornell 

Nature  with  understanding,  still  some  leaves,  even 
chapters,  have  been  quite  accurately  deciphered,  and 
he  who  would  enjoy  his  out-of-doors  to  its  extent, 
should  needs  have  an  intelligent  comprehension  of 
these  pages.  Again,  there  are  phenomena,  as 
Niagara,  which  are  so  grand  that  they  command 
the  attention,  and,  if  such  a  thing  is  possible,  the 
tribute  of  wonder  from  mankind.  Yet,  on  a  second 
visit,  even  Niagara  palls,  unless  the  first  has  roused 
the  latent  'why'  of  human  curiosity:  The  query, 
how  comes  there  here,  a  waterfall  so  tremendous, 
without  parallel  in  other  great  streams?  If  this  be 
true  of  the  world-wonder,  Niagara,  one  can  readily 
appreciate  why  more  unobtrusive,  though  perhaps 
tenfoM  more  interesting  natural  features  should  fail 
to  attain  their  due.  There  follows,  therefore,  in 
these  pages  an  attempt  to  put  before  the  reader 
the  story  of  the  hills,  the  valleys,  the  streams  and 
the  lakes  of  Central  New  York,  which,  fascinating 
in  themselves,  are  many  times  more  so,  once  their 
historic  relations  are  known.  If  the  story  is  inade- 
quately told,  or  flags  in  its  interest  at  places,  the 
fault  is  with  the  writer — and  he  craves  your  indulg- 
ence. 

As  with  the  history  of  the  human  race,  so  also 
here,  the  earliest,  and  which  indeed  includes  the 
major  portion  of  the  story,  measured  by  duration 
of  time,  is  the  most  imperfect,  and  lacking  of  details. 

We  know  that  in  the  days  when  life  on  the 
earth  was  young  (mind,  I  say,  when  life  was  young, 

144 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 

and  not  when  the  earth  was  young) ;  in  those  days 
much  of  the  interior  portion  of  North  America  was 
occupied  by  a  great  shallow  sea.  There  was  land 
to  the  north,  where  now  are  the  Highlands  of  Canada; 
what  we  now  term  the  Adirondacks,  was  land;  and 
a  range  of  mountains,  the  prototypes  of  the  Appala- 
chians, raised  their  summits  to  the  east  of  the 
present  ridges.  In  the  far  west,  there  were  also 
other  areas  projecting  above  the  stirface  of  the  sea; 
none  of  the  present  mountains,  however,  for  they 
are  much  more  recent.  In  many  places,  the  great 
Interior  Paleozoic  Sea  (as  the  ancient  sea  is  known 
to  geologists),  was  connected  by  arms  and  embay- 
ments  with  the  deep  oceans,  so  that  it  was  all  salt. 

The  rains  fell  then,  as  now,  and  we  are  inclined 
to  believe,  with  about  the  same  intensity,  but  in 
this  we  may  be  wrong;  day  and  night  made  alter- 
nate heat  and  cold,  as  did  also  the  succession  of 
seasons.  By  these  agents  the  rocks  of  the  exposed 
lands  were  broken  down — the  rain  dissolving  some 
of  the  minerals  of  which  they  were  composed,  and 
enlarging  the  microscopic  cracks  existing  in  their 
structure,  cracks  which  the  unequal  expansion  of 
the  various  minerals,  with  alternate  heatings  and 
coolings,  had  perhaps  started.  In  some  regions,  no 
doubt,  frost  lent  its  great  force  to  still  farther  rend 
and  crumble  the  rock. 

The  material  so  loosened,  was  carried  away  by 
the  streams,  the  little  rain-rills  bringing  it  to  the 
greater  courses.    That  which  the  rain  had  dissolved, 

145 


At  Cornell 

various  common  salts,  for  the  most  part,  was 
carried  along  invisibly,  while  the  insoluble  particles 
were  carried  along  in  suspension,  or  rolled  along  the 
bottom;  their  method  of  transportation  depending 
on  their  size  and  on  the  velocity  of  the  transporting 
stream.  From  the  little  streams  to  the  big  streams 
the  material  was  constantly  carried,  but  ever  onward, 
until  eventually  it  all  found  its  way  into  the  great 
Interior  Paleozoic  Sea;  or,  if  the  stream  flowed 
outwards,  into  the  surrounding  oceans.  But  in 
either  case,  at  the  still  water,  the  currents  of  the 
streams  were  checked,  no  longer  was  there  any  force 
to  hurry  the  turbid  sediments  onward,  and  so  they 
settled  down  quietly  on  the  sea  bottom. 

Not  all  in  one  confused  mass,  however,  but  with 
a  definite  arrangement.  When  the  flow  of  the 
streams  was  first  checked,  on  mingling  with  the 
quiet  waters,  the  coarsest  materials  were  naturally 
the  first  to  be  deposited,  whereas  the  sand  could  be 
carried  a  little  further,  and  the  clay  particles  quite 
far  out,  by  the  decreasing  current.  The  material  in 
solution,  on  the  other  hand,  was  mixed  quite  thor- 
oughly with  the  sea  waters,  and  was  then  extracted 
from  these,  perhaps  far  from  the  shore,  by  little 
shell  fish  and  corals,  who  used  it  in  building  their 
casings  and  stems;  and,  when  these  creatures  died, 
their  hard  structures  also  found  their  way  to  the 
bottom.  Thus,  from  the  shoreline  to  the  greater 
depths,  the  deposits  were  successively,  gravel,  sand, 
clay,  and  then  limy  and  flinty  organic  remains. 

146 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 


ulllt  Mork  0f  iFroHt  in  iratroying  Slnrk — &ix  Mile  (Urttk 

For  long  ages,  certainly  during  all  Silurian  and 
Devonian  time,  comprising,  without  doubt,  millions 
of  years,  these  lands  were  being  worn  down,  and  the 
major  portion  of  their  matter  poured  into,  and 
literally  rained  down  on  this  interior  sea  bottom. 
This  sea,  we  have  said,  was  shallow,  therefore,  in 
order  to  accommodate  all  this  material,  its  bottom 
sunk  about  as  fast  as  the  material  piled  up. 

But  you  ask:  "How  do  we  know  all  this? 
Who  found  it  out,  and  when?"  An  answer  to  the 
last  question  would  be  long,  and  its  interest,  though 
great,  has  no  place  here.  The  first,  however,  admits 
itself,  nor  is  it  so  difficult  as  it  niight  seem.  But 
let  us  continue  a  little  farther  with  the  facts,  and 


147 


At  Cornell 

then  come  back  to  the  evidence  which  proves 
their  truth. 

Whatever  inequaUties  may  have  existed  on  the 
sea-bottom  were  soon  filled  up,  since  the  slimy 
clays  naturally  slumped  off  and  slid  down  wherever 
they  were  deposited  on  elevations,  and  thus,  after 
a  geologically  short  time,  the  material  was  being 
deposited  in  layers  or  strata  on  a  level  surface.  In 
varying  seasons,  and  at  different  periods,  the 
deposits  varied  in  character,  and  again  the  rate  of 
the  bottom's  sinking  was  not  uniform.  Thus  the 
strata,  as  they  were  superimposed,  one  on  the  other, 
were  differentiated;  and  perchance  a  layer  of  clay 
was  succeeded  by  a  layer  of  sand.  The  layers 
were  piled  up  until  accumulations  thousands  of  feet 
thick  had  been  formed.  The  lowest  layers  being 
under  the  greatest  pressure,  became  indurated  and 
consolidated  into  stone ;  conglomerates  being  formed 
from  the  gravel,  sandstones  from  the  sand,  shales 
from  the  clays,  while  by  resolution  and  cementation, 
the  organic  deposits  were  changed  to  limestone,  and 
in  rarer  instances,  to  flints. 

At  the  end  of  Carboniferous  or  Coal  Time, 
which  succeeded  the  Devonian,  or,  perhaps,  even 
earlier  in  the  Carboniferous  Period,  a  new  movement 
of  the  earth's  crust  made  itself  apparent,  and  the 
bottom  of  the  Paleozoic  Sea,  which  had  all  along 
been  accommodatingly  sinking  to  receive  the  sedi- 
ments which  the  streams  from  the  surrounding 
mountains  and  lands  were  pouring  into  it,  began  to 

148 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 

rebel,  as  it  were,  and  instead  of  sinking,  began  to 
slowly  wrinkle  up  in  the  east,  thrusting  the  shore 
line  sediments  high  into  the  air  in  distinct  parallel 
folds,  and  bending,  in  the  process,  the  solid  rock  as 
though  it  were  plastic.  Thus  were  formed  our 
present  Appalachian  ridges.  Farther  away  from 
the  shore,  the  upward  movement  was  not  so  intense, 
but  the  force  applied  was  more  nearly  vertical,  and 
so  the  layers  around  Ithaca  were  thrust  upward 
intact,  and  in  their  original  horizontal  position.  I 
say  intact,  but  that  does  not  mean  they  escaped  all 
change,  for  there  were  some  strains  and  twist ings 
developed  in  this  elevation  of  so  great  a  mass,  and 
these  had  the  effect  of  causing  the  rock  to  break 
up  into  a  countless  number  of  square  prisms,  or 
blocks,  with  planes  at  right  angles  to  each  other, 
separating  them.  These  planes  are  known  as  joint 
planes,  and  their  influence  on  the  subsequent  changes 
was  very  potent  as  shall  be  seen. 

We  have  now  traced  the  origin  of  the  rocks  on 
which  the  Ithaca  and  Cornell  of  today  are  founded, 
from  their  formation  in  the  sea,  to  their  uplift  into 
dry  land.  But  that  was  by  no  means  the  end.  As 
soon  as  the  first  mud-layer  appeared  above  the 
water's  surface,  the  forces  of  weathering  and  erosion, 
the  rain,  the  heat  and  cold,  the  expanding  force  of 
the  frost,  the  transporting  power  of  the  streams,  all 
attacked  the  new  land;  and,  just  as  they  had  in 
the  past  ages  worn  down  the  mountains  and  built 
them  into  these  sediment  layers  beneath  the  sea,  so 

149 


At  Cornell 

now,  with  equal  alacrity,  they  entered  upon  the  task 
of  redistributing  this  material  once  more  over 
another  sea  bottom.  Although  limited  in  extent, 
very  shallow  areas  of  sea  still  existed  for  a  time  near 
by;  yet  from  this  period  on,  the  land  waste  was 
carried  far  from  Central  New  York,  and  most  of  it 
was  probably  transported  westward  to  the  lower 
Mississippi  river  region,  where  the  sea  remained 
for  a  long  time  after  the  uplift. 

Naturally  the  agents  of  denudation  were,  at  first, 
able  to  work  very  rapidly  on  the  new  land,  for  the 
upper  layers  were  probably  composed  of  unconsoli- 
dated muds  and  sands,  and  in  such  material  valleys 
could  be  carved  rapidly,  and  the  fragments  easily 
removed.  Nevertheless,  the  forces  of  the  interior 
earth,  the  terrestial  forces,  gained  the  ascendency 
over  the  extra  terrestial  forces;  and  so,  in  time, 
the  region  of  the  Finger  Lakes  was  lifted  up  to  the 
dignity  of  a  plateau;  at  least  two  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  But  although  the  elevat- 
ing forces  gained  the  victor}^  it  was  not  without 
losses,  for  the  plateau  was  not  unbroken,  but  in  the 
contest  had  been  gashed  by  deep  and  wide  valleys, 
through  which  the  waters  from  the  rains  and  the 
snows  found  their  way  to  the  sea. 

Now  we  may  pause  for  a  moment  in  this  rela- 
tion, and  answer  the  question  propounded  in  a 
previous  paragraph:  How  do  we  know  all  this? 
Well,  the  streams,  by  cutting  these  deep  valleys, 
have  unsealed  the  rock  book  in  which  the  chapters 

150 


■^p    .^ 


A  JFoHaiUfprnxtB  ?Rork-3Fragmpnt  frnm  tl|?  Bp&  3Rnrk 
Hniprlging  tift  (SlarntU.  (Campua 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 

of  this  region's  history  are  written,  and  the  pages 
have  been  found  legible. 

We  postulated,  at  the  beginning,  that  there 
were  land  areas  to  the  north  and  east,  the  wearing 
down  of  whose  rocks  had  furnished  the  material  for 
the  sedimentary  rock  layers  of  the  present  plateau. 
This  we  know  to  be  true  because  in  every  case  it 
is  found,  that,  although  the  layers  are  in  some 
instances,  disturbed  from  their  original  sequence  by 
doubling  when  folded,  the  order  of  the  rocks  is: 
first  and  lowest,  the  crystalline  igneous  rocks  of  the 
early  land  areas;  and  on  these,  in  successive  layers, 
the  conglomerates,  sandstones,  shales,  and  lime- 
stones formed  in  the  Paleozoic  Sea.  The  early  rocks 
are  very  different  from  these  latter,  being  of  the 
granite  type,  formed  from  a  molten  magma,  and 
cooled  very  slowly,  so  that  the  various  substances 
which  had  been  melted  together  had  time  to  crystal- 
lize out  (just  as  salt  and  sugar  will  separate  when  a 
solution  of  the  two  is  slowly  evaporated),  and  thus 
we  can  readily  distinguish  these  igneous  rocks  from 
the  sedimentary  strata  later  deposited  upon  them. 

That  the  streams  carried  the  material  to  the 
shallow  Paleozoic  Sea  we  know  to  be  true,  because 
they  are  doing  the  same  things  today.  No  one  can 
doubt  the  reality  of  the  denudation  of  the  land  who 
has  seen  the  spongy  earth  in  the  spring,  when  the 
frost  comes  out  of  the  ground,  and  the  particles  its 
expansive  force  has  separated,  are  left  uncompacted; 
or  who  has  observed  the  muddy,   sediment-laden 

153 


At  Cornell 

waters  of  a  spring  flood.  That  the  rain  fell  in  those 
early  days,  as  it  does  now,  is  shown  by  the  rain 
prints  that  the  drops  made  in  the  soft  ooze  along 
the  shoreline  of  the  ancient  sea,  which  are  preserved 
for  us  now  in  the  hardened  mud,  by  being  buried 
later  under  hundreds  of  feet  of  other  sediments, 
and  solidified  by  percolating  cement  solutions,  and 
the  pressure  resulting  from  the  superincumbent 
masses. 

The  presence  of  these  rain  prints  is  itself  one 
evidence  that  the  Paleozoic  Sea  was  shallow,  and 
that  its  shoreline  was  constantly  changing,  as  its  bot- 
tom was  depressed  or  raised.  Other  evidence  of  its 
shallowness  is  the  presence  of  ripple  marks  in  the 
solid  sandstones,  and  again,  the  material  of  which 
the  alternating  layers  are  composed.  For  in  this 
region  the  rocks  are  mostly  sandstones  and  shales, 
that  is,  collections  of  sand  and  clay  particles; 
material  which  could  not  have  been  carried  far  from 
shore,  because,  as  the  velocity  of  streams  is  almost 
immediately  checked  when  they  empty  into  still 
water,  and  they  are  thus  robbed  of  their  transporting 
power,  they  must,  perforce,  drop  these  coarser  por- 
tions of  their  loads.  Again  the  movement  of  the 
ocean  bottom,  though  subject  to  minor  fluctuations, 
must  have  been  in  general  one  of  depression,  else 
how  could  these  hundreds,  even  thousands  of  feet  of 
thickness  of  shallow  water  sediments  have  been  piled 
in  layers,  one  above  the  other,  without  an  apparent 
break  ?    That  the  rate  of  depression  was  not  uniform, 

154 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 

is  abundantly  shown  by  the  fact  that  the  layers  are 
alternately  shale,  then  sandstone;  or  perhaps,  when 
a  marked  sinking  occurred,  and  only  organic  remains 
could  accumulate,  the  shore  line  being  distant,  a 
layer  of  limestone  was  laid  down,  and  we  see  it  now, 
mixed  with  the  others. 

All  this  last  we  may  see  when  we  examine  the 
rock  walls  of  the  valleys,  where  the  streams  have 
cut  through  the  layers.  That  the  streams  did  cut 
through  layers  which  were  once  continuous  and 
unbroken,  can  be  easily  determined  by  observing 
first  the  elevation  of  some  conspicuous,  readily 
recognized  layer  on  one  side  of  the  valley,  and  then 
crossing  to  the  opposite  side,  and  noting  whether 
the  same  layer  occurs  there  also,  and  at  the  same 
elevation. 

You  are  no  doubt  willing  to  admit  the  reason- 
ableness of  all  this,  but  you  recall  a  statement  about 
the  millions  of  years  that  had  elapsed  while  these 
rocks  were  formed.  True,  the  very  thickness  of  the 
strata  is  some  proof  that  they  could  not  have  been 
laid  down  in  a  few  years,  yet  to  assign  millions  of 
years  to  their  accumulation  on  that  account  seems 
unnecessary.  Good  enough,  but  there  is  another 
and  a  weightier  reason. 

We  began  this  history  with  a  sentence  wherein 
was  the  phrase:  "in  the  days  when  life  was  young" 
on  the  earth,  the  first  of  these  sedimentary  layers 
were  deposited  in  the  great  Interior  Paleozoic  sea. 
That  is  the  clue.     For  the  various  strata  have  each 

155  • 


At  Cornell 

fossils,  traces  of  plant  and  animal  life,  shells,  and 
casts  of  them,  imprints  of  leaves  and  stems,  molds 
of  whole  animals.  And,  as  one  goes  from  the  older 
strata  to  the  higher,  later  ones,  the  species  of  these 
organisms  show  always  a  more  highly  organized 
type,  more  specialized  parts  to  fit  them  to  compete 
more  successfully  in  the  struggle  for  existence  which 
was  then,  as  it  is  now,  the  condition  for  all  life.  In 
the  early,  igneous,  crystalline  rocks,  no  remains  of 
life  are  found;  in  the  lowest,  sedimentary  layers, 
it  is  of  a  very  low  type.  The  earliest  types  are  no 
doubt  lost  to  us,  as  they  were  probably  very  ele- 
mentary, consisting  simply  of  a  single  cell,  or  aggre- 
gation of  cells,  without  any  protective,  or  binding, 
hard  parts,  and,  in  the  piling  up  of  later  masses, 
any  remains  of  this  sort  would  be  literally  crushed 
beyond  recognition.  It  was  only  when  the  organ- 
isms had  developed  so  far  as  to  have  hard,  protective 
shells,  that  the  remains  become  clearly  defined  and 
abundant;  and  it  is  these  already  somewhat 
advanced  types  that  we  find  in  the  lowest  strata 
from  which  we  can  trace  the  life  development  with 
accuracy.  Then,  as  we  go  upward  from  horizon  to 
horizon,  we  find  that  these  organisms  change,  the 
different  species  of  a  genus  becoming  more  and  more 
sharply  defined,  or  again,  a  whole  genus  will  flourish, 
and  come  to  a  maximum  point  in  regard  to  abund- 
ance and  development;  and  then  decline,  and 
finally  become  extinct.  Again  at  later  periods, 
altogether  new  forms  appear,  as  the  fishes,  which 

156 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 


^ome  3^080110  from  tlfp  ilork0  Arouni  (tartxtll 

in  the  youth  of  their  existence  had  hard,  bony 
coverings,  and  only  later  developed  scales.  Some 
types  again  have  maintained  a  continuous  life  chain 
through  all  the  ages,  and  modern  representatives  of 
their  classes  are  to  be  found  in  our  seas. 

But   when   one   thinks   of   the   length   of   time 
which  must  have  been  required  for  life  to  develop 


167 


At  Cornell 

from  the  lowest  shellfish  type  to  the  highly  specialized 
forms  which  already  existed  at  the  time  when  the 
bottom  of  the  Interior  Paleozoic  sea  was  uplifted; 
one  can  readily  conceive  that  the  years  must  be 
numbered  by  the  million  for  this  evolution  to  take 
place.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  one  conceives  that 
evolution  may  have  worked  more  swiftly  at  that 
time,  one  is  confronted  with  the  fact  that  the  remains 
which  are  today  being  buried  in  the  same  manner, 
will  leave  a  record,  in  every  way  similar  to  that  of 
these  early  accumulations,  and  why  then,  apply  any 
different  interpretation? 

This  brings  us  to  another  time  consideration. 
Since  the  uplift  of  the  strata,  the  streams  have  cut 
deep  valleys  into  them ;  the  hilltops  themselves  have 
been  worn  down;  around  Ithaca  only  a  few  reach 
the  elevation  of  two  thousand  feet,  and,  while  at 
one  time  all  the  plateau  must  have  reached  this 
elevation,  the  average  height  of  the  land  is  now 
only  eight  to  nine  hundred  feet  above  sea  level. 
This  will  indicate  something  of  the  enormous  amount 
of  material  that  has  been  returned  to  the  sea.  True, 
there  has  been  another  important  and  very  capable 
agent  assisting  in  this  wearing  down,  the  story  of 
which  yet  remains  to  be  told;  nevertheless,  by  far 
the  greater  amount  of  this  degrading  has  been  done 
by  the  streams.  How  long  were  they  at  work? 
The  best  answer  we  can  find  to  this  is  the  estimate 
(based  on  an  actual  computation  of  the  amount 
transported),    that    the    Mississippi    river    removes 

158 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 

sufficient  material  in  one  year  to  lower  the  surface 
of  its  entire  drainage  area,  one  three  hundredth  of 
an  inch;  or,  in  other  words,  it  would  require  three 
thousand  five  hundred  years  to  lower  it  one  foot. 
Of  course  we  can  not  apply  any  such  unit  to  measure 
the  absolute  amount  of  time  it  has  taken  to  carve 
out  these  valleys  about  Ithaca,  but  it  does  afford 
some  basis  for  a  relative  comparison. 

Beyond  showing,  b}^  this  digression,  that  there 
was  a  very  secure  reason  for  assigning  millions  of 
years  as  a  time  period  for  the  scope  of  our  history 
up  to  this  point,  we  have  also  brought  into  relief  the 
great  time  interval,  great,  even  geologically  speak- 
ing, which  intervened  between  the  uplifting  of  the 
plateau  from  the  ocean,  and  the  next  great  epoch 
in  the  history  of  the  region — the  advance  of  the 
Continental  glacier. 

The  cause  of  this  frigid  visitation  is  an  unsolved 
problem.  It  seems  that  no  one  simple  condition  is 
adequate,  or  if  so,  that  condition,  as  for  example,  a 
change  of  climate,  is  as  difficult  to  account  for  as  the 
existence  of  the  glacier.  Suffice  then  to  say  that  for 
a  long  period  of  time,  the  snow-fall  over  that  part  of 
North  America  which  we  know  as  the  Labrador  pen- 
insula, was  each  year  far  in  excess  of  the  amount 
melted  during  the  warm  season.  Thus,  an  ice-cap 
accumulated  there;  practically  a  mountain  of  ice. 
Now  ice,  though  from  a  scientific  standpoint  it  is 
as  much  a  rock  as  is  quartz,  possesses  however, 
under  pressure,  at  ordinary  temperatures,   a  qual- 

159 


At  Cornell 

ity  similar  to  plasticity.  Therefore,  when  the  ice- 
cap had  grown  so  that  it  covered  all  Labrador 
with  a  solid  mass,  thousands  of  feet  thick,  the  layers 
at  the  bottom  were  unable  to  stand  the  pressure, 
and  a  viscous-like  flow  started  at  the  edges,  as 
these  moved  out  from  beneath  the  load.  Although 
it  is  held  by  some  scientists  that  the  flow  of  the  ice 
was  not  truly  viscous,  yet  we  may  cite,  as  an 
analagous  case,  the  flow  of  thick  molasses  when 
poured  out  upon  a  level  surface;  as  it  exhibits  the 
same  heaping  up  at  the  center,  and  a  circular  outflow 
at  the  edges,  as  did  the  ice  on  a  larger  scale.  That 
this  was  the  nature  of  the  movement,  and  that 
Labrador  was  the  center  for  that  part  of  the  mass 
which  invaded  New  York  state,  we  know,  for  all  of 
northern  Canada,  to  the  pole,  was  not  glaciated, 
as  is  popularly  thought;  moreover,  the  scratches, 
which  the  ice  made  in  the  bedrock  over  which  it 
passed,  all  radiate  thus  from  a  center  in  Labrador. 

As  the  ice  moved  southward  from  Labrador, 
it  did  not  gently  cover  the  land,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, its  action  was  most  destructive.  We  have 
^no  reason  to  believe  that  the  climate  of  New  York 
was  much  different  then  than  now,  in  fact,  in  Alaska, 
at  the  present  time,  green  trees  flourish  within  a 
hundred  yards  of  a  glacier's  front;  so  we  may 
imagine  the  great  ice  cliff  of  the  Continental  glacier 
ruthlessly  engulfing  the  green  land.  Nor  was  this 
all.  As  it  moved  along,  it  gathered  up  the  loose 
rock  fragments  it  encountered ;  others  it  broke  loose 

160 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 


A  d^lanal  J&avlbtr  Bepaaitth  nrar  (darnrU  bg  tt;r  (dattttn^ntal 
(glarirr.    &l|otofl  (glarial  ^rratrl^w 

from  projecting  spurs,  and  all  these  were  eventually 
imbedded  in  its  base;  those  which  originally  fell  on 
its  surface,  as  it  passed  by  mountain  slopes,  tumbling 
through  crevasses  until  they  reached  the  bottom  of 
the  moving  flood  of  ice.  Furnished  with  such  tools, 
and  moving  forward  always,  urged  by  the  resistless 
pressure  from  behind,  the  glacier  literally  scoured 
the  land  over  which  it  passed,  scraping  off  first  the 
soil,  and  then  graving  and  grinding  the  rock  beneath. 
We  have  no  means  of  estimating  how  long  this 
continued,  but  one  thing  we  do  know,  and  that  is, 
that  the  erosion  which  it  accomplished  was  pro- 
digous.  Even  today  we  find  the  bed  rock  polished, 
striated,  and  grooved,  where  the  ice  passed  over  it. 
In  the  north  and  south  valleys  the  ice  was 
deepest,  and  moved  with  the  greatest  velocity,  but 

12  161 


At  Cornell 

its  mass  was  sufficient  to  cover  the  highest  hills, 
as  is  shown  by  the  presence  on  their  summits  of 
foreign  rock  fragments,  granites,  sandstones,  and 
quartzites;  rocks  which  only  outcrop  far  to  the 
north.  Again,  its  mass  formed  a  mighty  dam  which 
prevented  the  north  flowing  streams  from  reaching 
their  natural  outlets,  and  thus  ponded  back  their 
waters  until  lakes  were  created,  whose  levels  rose 
until  they  overflowed  the  southern  divides.  This 
lake  condition  was  a  feature  both  of  the  advance 
and  the  retreat  of  the  ice.  To  the  water  which 
filled  these  lakes,  the  glacier,  moreover,  contributed 
tons  of  sediment,  the  debris  of  the  land  destruction 
to  the  north,  and  also  the  water  of  its  own  constant 
melting.  Sediment-laden  floods  poured  over  the 
southern  divides,  and  spread  the  rock  flour  of  the 
glacier's  grinding  in  a  great  sheet  over  the  land  to 
the  south.  Eventually,  however,  just  after  it  had 
crossed  over  the  north  Pennsylvania  line,  the  pro- 
gress of  the  ice  was  checked,  for  here  its  melting 
became  so  active  that  the  forward  movement  was 
only  sufficient  to  keep  up  an  equilibrium,  and  enable 
the  ice  to  maintain  the  southerly  position  it  had 
already  attained. 

But  after  a  time  a  change  in  conditions  took 
place,  and  the  glacier  did  not  receive  the  reinforce- 
ments from  the  north,  which  were  a  necessity,  if  it 
was  to  hold  its  own,  so  that  it  gradually  gave  way, 
receding  to  the  north.  Perchance  it  subsequently 
advanced    again,    but    that    is    a    technical    point 

162 


A  ^UQQtBtian  of  tlf?  QIoit6ittott0  in  Cakt  QIanuga  at  Ollfp  (CIom 
of  t\}f  ^lartal  ^^rioln 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 

which  is  still  in  dispute.  Sufficient  it  is  for  us  to 
know  that  its  retreat  was  not  a  continuous,  uniform 
one,  but  of  a  character  marked  by  many  minor  halts 
and  meltings,  varying  in  rate.  Moreover,  this 
retreat  was  a  passive  one,  no  actual  movement  of 
the  mass,  as  the  advance  had  been,  but  simply  a 
shrinking,  due  to  the  transformation  of  its  solid 
cliffs  of  ice  into  water.  Thus  each  halt  was  the  time 
of  an  equilibrium  between  the  rate  of  melting  and 
the  existing  forward  thrust  of  the  ice;  and  its  place 
was  marked  by  the  dumping  there  of  all  the  material 
which  the  ice  mass  had  transported  so  far.  Thus 
veritable  hills  of  debris  were  built  up,  the  "terminal 
and  recessional  moraines"  of  the  physiographer, 
which  seem  tremendously  large  to  us  now,  but  which 
in  reality  are  small  in  proportion  to  the  glacier 
which  accumulated  the  material. 

As  the  southern  divides  of  the  preglacial  drain- 
age were  passed,  there  existed  once  more  the  ice- 
dammed  lake  stage;  for  as  soon  as  they  were 
released  from  the  glacier's  icy  clutch,  the  waters  of 
the  streams  again  purled  merrily  northward.  Not 
always  in  their  old  courses,  however,  as  we  shall  see. 
Finally  all  the  ice  had  melted  away,  and  the  country 
was  once  more  clothed  in  vegetation,  but  its  topo- 
graphy had  been  remarkably  altered. 

We  have  noted  above  that  the  deepest  ice,  and 
the  most  rapid  movement  of  the  glacier,  was  along 
the  axes  of  the  north  and  south  valleys.  Where 
the  ice  flood  overtopped  a  ridge,  and  poured  into 

165 


At  Cornell 

an  east  and  west  depression,  the  action  was  to  fill 
it  with  a  wedge  of  ice,  and  then  the  succeeding 
movement  was  over  a  plain,  formed  by  this  icefilling 
between  the  two  banks  of  the  valley.  Not  so  in 
the  case  of  the  north  and  south  valleys.  There  the 
ice  literally  gouged  out  the  bottom  with  its  powerful 
tools,  and  as  a  result  of  this,  we  have  the  tremen- 
dously deep  lakes  of  the  Finger  Lake  region  of 
Central  New  York,  with  their  bottoms  often  below 
sea  level;   and  of  these,  our  Lake  Cayuga  is  one. 

The  east  and  west  tributaries  of  the  preglacial 
Cayuga  river  (for  in  the  valley  of  Cayuga  lake  a 
river  flowed  in  preglacial  time ;  the  present  lake  basin 
being  the  result,  in  part,  of  the  gouging  out  of  the 


ife^ 

^^^^ 

^Pi^l^^v-      _ 

'S^^^^^^^^^^^^^l 

^^ 

^^' 

' 

2^ 

J^ 

.■M 

^ 

'      '4\ 

^ 

W:\txt  IFall  (drrrk  Uraora  \V&  (dU)  HalUg  to  (Eul  a  Sork  Cftorge 

166 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 

river's  valley  bottom,  by  the  ice,  and  in  part  by 
the  piling  up  of  a  moraine  dam  at  its  northern  end), 
were  left  practically  unaltered  as  to  the  level  of 
their  valley  bottoms,  but  found  themselves  con- 
fronted with  a  tumble  of  some  four  hundred  feet, 
when  they  reached  the  main  valley,  into  which  they 
had  formerly  entered  at  grade.  This,  in  a  sentence, 
explains  the  origin  of  a  large  number  of  the  many 
waterfalls  and  gorges  which  make  the  Finger  Lake, 
region  famous. 

There  was  another  effect  due  to  the  ice  filling 
being  deeper  in  the  valleys  than  on  the  hilltops, 
and  this  affected  both  the  north  and  south,  and  the 
east  and  west  valleys,  and  in  this  way:  In  the 
valleys,  the  ice  lingered  longest,  and  also  deposited 
the  greatest  amount  of  morainic  material.  As  a 
consequence,  the  former  stream  courses  were,  in 
many  cases,  choked  with  glacial  drift,  and  this  was 
apt  to  be  highest  in  the  center  of  the  old  valley. 
Then  the  streams,  recommencing  their  flow,  were 
backed  up  until  they  reached  the  level  of  the  lowest 
point  in  the  dam,  where  they  rebegan  their  flow, 
but  very  often  across  the  banks  of  their  former 
channels.  Cutting  down  in  such  new  courses  very 
soon  brought  them  to  bed  rock,  into  which  they  then 
rapidly  cut  narrow  canyons,  and  this  was  the  origin 
of  those  gorges  which  are  not  the  result  of  the 
tumble  of  the  tributary  streams  into  the  Cayuga 
valley.  The  gorge  above  Beebe  lake,  on  Fall  creek,  is 
a  notable  example  of  this  kind  of  cutting.      When, 

167 


At  Cornell 


(2Il;r  Hailing  iSiiratnr  i^illa  in  tifr  Inlrt  Vallrg 

after  thus  cutting  across  its  former  banks  in  a  rock 
gorge,  a  stream  once  more  encountered  its  drift-filled 
valley,  it  swept  out  this  loose  material  and  thus 
formed  a  broad,  shallow  trough,  locally  known  as 
an  amphitheatre,  of  which  the  site  of  Beebe  lake  is 
an  illustration.  Six  Mile  creek  has  a  series  of  rock 
gorges  and  amphitheatres  alternating,  in  one  of 
which  latter  a  big  reservoir  for  the  city  water  supply 
has  been  created,  by  damming  the  narrow  gorge 
below  it. 

The  succession  of  level  terraces,  one  above  the 
other,  and  with  steep  fronts,  composed  of  loose 
gravels,  which  are  the  site  of  Cornell  Heights,  and 
which  have  a  counterpart  at  the  mouth  of  Coy  glen, 
across  the  valley  (a  counterpart  which  can  be  seen 
in  its  entirety  from  the  Campus) ,  are  a  record  of  the 
different  levels  of  the  lake  during  the  ponding  up 


168 


Earth  History  of  the  Cornell  Country 

of  the  waters  while  the  ice  was  receding.  They  are, 
in  a  word,  deltas  of  the  streams  tributary  to  the 
Cayuga  valley,  deltas  composed  of  the  gravels  which 
these  streams  brought  down  and  dumped  into  the 
still  waters  of  the  lake;  each  level  terrace  marking 
the  altitude  of  a  new,  lower  outlet  of  the  lake,  to 
the  north,  as  the  ice  receded.  Similar  deltas  are 
being  formed  in  the  lake  today;  in  fact,  the  flats, 
on  which  the  major  part  of  Ithaca  is  built,  are 
of  this  origin.  As  one  goes  beyond  the  level  area 
of  these  flats,  up  the  Inlet  valley,  one  encounters  roll- 
ing, irregular  hills,  the  typical  moraine  filling  in  the 
valleys. 

Today  the  country  is  much  the  same  as  the 
glacier  left  it.  Verdure  has  clothed  the  erst  barren 
moraine  piles,  the  streams  have  cut  gorges  in  the 
rocks,  but  in  the  main  features  of  the  topogra- 
phy no  great  changes  have  occurred.  The  bed 
rocks  have  not  yet  crumbled  enough  for  weather- 
ing to  efface  the  glacial  scratches,  and  the  foreign 
boulders  brought  by  the  glacier  are  still  as  smooth 
and  polished  as  when  they  were  the  tools  of 
the  ice  giant.  It  has  been,  geologically  speaking, 
only  yesterday  that  the  ice  retreat  occurred,  and, 
who  knows,  perhaps  tomorrow,  geologically,  we  may 
have  another  advance.  However  this  may  be,  you 
must  agree,  that,  although  the  manner  of  the  telling 
of  this  earth  story  may  be  tedious,  its  interest  is 
intense,  and  its  plot  well  worth  the  knowing;  if  one 
would  wander  afield  in  the  region  of  Cornell. 

169 


©If^  Hat^ra  nf  QIaguga 


1 


m 


®I|^  Uatera  nf  Olaguga 


^  I  HE  BLUE  expanse  of  Cayuga,  stretching  away 
I  J/  to  the  northward,  is  an  everyday  eye-feast  to 
the  CornelHan.  It  greets  him  each  morning,  as 
he  chmbs  the  Campus  slope,  and  even  in  the  qlass- 
room,  as  work  grows  irksome  and  he  looks  up  and 
out  the  western  window,  its  flashing  color-enchant- 
ment entices  him  to  forsake  the  weary  grind  and 
come  ride  on  its  waves.  Indeed,  even  in  winter  the 
spell  continues,  for  when  the  hills  are  frosty  white, 
and  so  pure  in  their  cold  garb  that  they  repel,  the 
lake  below  suggests  warmth  and  invitation. 

Nor,  having  yielded  to  its  lure,  is  the  reality 
disappointing.  The  little  waves  flash  in  the  light 
and  lap-lap,  ever  against  the  sides  of  your  boat; 
while  overhead  the  clouds  tumble  across  the  whole 
heavens  in  one  tumultuous  pageant,  making  a  multi- 
tude of  shadows  to  flit  across  the  waters  and  the 
field  and  forest  checkered  hills.  Crowning  the 
southeastern  summits  of  these  hills  one  sees  the 
University,  with  the  gray  outlines  of  her  stone 
structures  sharply  etched  against  the  sky,  like  so 
many  citadels.     Aye,  that  is  certainly  an  environ- 

173 


At  Cornell 

ment  which  spells  inspiration;  one  that  arouses  big 
thoughts  and  ambitions. 

One  must  become  versed  in  the  lore  of  the  lake, 
however,  to  enjoy  all  its  many  phases.  For  it  has 
an  interest  which  goes  beyond  its  outward  beauty; 
an  interest  having  a  starting  point  so  early  as  the 
reason  for  its  existence,  and  continuing  in  its  human 
associations,  connected  first  with  the  Indian  domi- 
nation, then  with  the  romantic  period  of  early 
settlement,  and  extending  even  to  the  commerce 
and  civilization  of  today. 

Cayuga,  and  Seneca  next  westward,  are  the 
two  largest  of  the  Finger  lakes  of  Central  New  York, 
and  ten  would  perhaps  number  those  whose  size  is 
appreciable.      The    parallel    arrangement    of    these 


Q[l|»  Slumultuaufi  l^a^ant  of  d^Lauba 

174 


The  Waters  of  Cayuga 

lakes,  and  their  long,  narrow  and  straight  extension, 
uniformly  north  and  south,  early  attracted  atten- 
tion; the  forms  of  the  larger  ones,  like  an  extended 
finger,  suggesting  the  comparison  which  has  given 
a  name  to  the  group. 

It  is  natural  that  one  should  ask  why  these 
lakes  exist  and  what  is  the  meaning  of  their  peculiar 
arrangement.  And  even  greater  curiosity  is  aroused 
when  one  learns  that  their  bottoms  are  below  sea 
level,  and  hears  the  stories  of  the  "lake  guns"  and 
their  mysterious  thundering.  And  these  questions 
have  been  answered,  in  part,  quite  satisfactorily. 

To  understand  fully,  one  must  go  back  to  the 
beginning  of  things,  when  the  solid  rocks,  which 
now  form  the  foundations  of  the  region,  were  being 
strewn  as  fine  sediments,  by  streams  coming  from 
the  north  and  east,  over  the  bottom  of  a  shallow 
sea,  which  occupied  the  region. 

In  the  earliest  period  of  which  we  have  a  record 
at  Ithaca,  this  sea  had  a  connection,  probably  to 
the  south,  with  the  open  ocean,  but  this  connection 
was  so  narrow  and  shallow  that  there  could  have 
been  no  active  circulation  between  the  waters  of 
the  ocean  and  the  sea,  and  only  as  the  interior  sea 
waters  evaporated  did  more  ocean  water  enter. 
But  evaporation  could  not  remove  the  salt  which 
the  water  held  in  solution,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
when  once  it  became  saturated,  the  salt  was  pre- 
cipitated, and  fell  to  the  bottom  to  form  the  thick 
salt  layers  which  are  now  found  two  thousand  feet 

175 


At  Cornell 

below  Ithaca.  These  layers  of  rock  salt  are  nearly 
pure,  and  there  can  not,  therefore,  have  been  much 
sediment  brought  in  by  streams  at  this  time;  more- 
over, if  there  had  been  many  streams,  their  waters 
would  have  sweetened  and  freshened  the  sea  waters 
sufficiently  to  prevent  precipitation  of  the  salt.  It 
is  logical,  then,  to  conclude  that  the  climate  of  that 
period  for  this  region  was  arid,  so  that  little  water 
found  its  way  from  the  land  into  the  sea. 

But  this  condition,  though  of  long  duration,  for 
there  are  layers  of  solid  salt,  two  hundred  and  fifty- 
eight  feet  in  thickness,  underlying  Ithaca,  eventually 
changed;  a  more  humid  climate  followed,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  the  bottom  of  the  inland  sea  began 
a  slow  subsidence,  the  rate  of  which  seems  to  have 
kept  pace  very  nearly  with  the  rate  at  which  the 
enlarged  streams  now  supplied  sediment  and  spread 
this  sediment  in  layers  over  the  bottom.  This  pro- 
cess continued  with  slight  variations,  until  more 
than  two  thousand  five  hundred  feet  in  thickness 
(the  depth  from  the  level  of  the  Cornell  campus  to 
the  salt),  of  shales,  sandstones  and  limestones  had 
accumulated.  Indeed,  probably  as  much  as  two 
thousand  feet  more  were  laid  down  and  are  now 
removed,  but  of  this  we  can  not  be  sure. 

However,  the  period  of  deposit  and  sinking  of 
the  sea  bottom  was  followed  by  its  opposite,  a  time 
of  uplift  and  wearing  down.  The  accumulated 
horizontal  strata,  all  over  the  Central  New  York 
region,    and   far   to   the   west,   were   slowly  thrust 

176 


The  Waters  of  Cayuga 


iCaafr  tsiUv  Cayfr  of  Kork  Emprgpa  from  \\\t  OTattr 

Upward,  so  that  what  had  formerly  been  a  sea 
bottom,  became,  in  time,  a  great  plateau.  To  the 
north,  however,  the  uplift  started  earlier,  or  perhaps, 
continued  longer,  for  the  rock  beds,  in  general  have 
a  gentle  inclination  to  the  south.  Thus,  as  one 
paddles  northward  along  the  western  shore  of  Cayuga 
one  can  see  layer  after  layer  of  rock  emerge  from 
the  water,  each  older  than  the  last.  There  is  a  fas- 
cination in  following  this  succession  of  strata,  for 
it  is  like  going  backward  down  the  halls  of  time, 
perhaps  millions  of  years,  through  the  ages  when 
these  rocks  were  formed.  In  the  time  which  has 
intervened,  pressure  and  heat,  and  mineral 
cements  have  hardened  and  consolidated  the 
loose  sediments,  and  made  of   the  animal  remains 


177 


At  Cornell 

entombed  in  them,  fossils  as  hard  as  the  rocks 
themselves. 

As  soon  as  the  strata  were  lifted  above  sea 
level,  the  rains  fell  on  them,  and,  in  consequence, 
streams  flowed  over  them,  and,  after  a  long  period 
of  cutting,  a  drainage  system,  probably  sloping  to 
the  north,  developed.  The  streams  carved  out 
valleys  in  the  strata,  and  thus  were  formed  the 
parallel  valleys  of  the  Finger  lakes,  for  these  seem 
to  have  been  the  trunk  valleys  to  which  the  east 
and  west  streams  were  tributary. 

But  it  is  manifestly  impossible  for  flowing  water 
to  cut  its  channels  deeper  than  the  level  of  the 
ocean  into  which  it  empties.  Yet  that  is  the  condi- 
tion in  the  Finger  lake  valleys  toda^^  To  account 
for  this  deepening,  one  must  look  then  for  another 
cause.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  streams  at  the  end 
of  their  cutting,  had  bottoms  at  least  seven  hundred 
feet  above  sea  level,  while  now  they  are,  in  places, 
fifty  feet  below.  What  has  removed  the  intervening 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  feet  of  solid  rock,  and 
removed  it  only  from  the  north  and  south  valleys, 
leaving  the  east  and  west  tributaries  with  bottoms 
which,  even  today,  are  eight  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea? 

The  answer  is  found  in  the  results  of  another 
climatic  change,  whose  conditions  brought  about 
the  great  Ice  Age  of  Continental  Glaciation  over 
almost  the  whole  of  the  northern  hemisphere.  In 
eastern  North  America  this  climatic  change  caused 

178 


The  Waters  of  Cayuga 

the  accumulation  of  mountains  of  ice  in  Labrador, 
which  grew  to  such  a  bulk  that  they  could  not 
sustain  their  own  mass,  and  so  spread  out  at  the 
edges  and  started  a  great  ice  sheet  flowing  in  all 
directions,  from  their  center,  engulfing  the  land  to 
the  south  and  east  like  a  great  tidal  wave.  At  first 
this  ice-flood  was  not  deep  enough  to  cover  the  hill 
summits,  so  that  when  it  came  from  the  level 
Ontario  plain  into  the  Finger  lake  region,  its  advance 
tongues  were  crowded  into  the  comparatively  nar- 
row north  and  south  valleys. 

It  is  hard  to  conceive  of  ice  as  being  in  any 
sense  a  plastic  mass,  it  seems  so  brittle,  but  once 
you  imagine  this,  you  can  readily  perceive  what  a 
terrific  grinding  agent  such  a  mass,  pushed  irresisti- 
bly up  the  drainage  slope  of  the  country,  must  have 
been.  It  picked  up  the  loose  fragments  of  rocks 
which  it  encountered,  and  used  them  as  tools  to 
scour  the  underlying  strata;  projecting  and  isolated 
masses  it  tore  off  bodily.  Then,  when  it  was  crowded 
into  the  valleys  of  the  upland  region,  all  its  force 
was  localized  and  centralized,  and  its  movement 
through  the  valleys  might  be  likened  to  the  forcing 
of  water  through  a  nozzle.  Thus,  literally  squeezed 
between  the  hills,  its  velocity  was  tremendously 
increased  and  its  erosive  power  in  even  greater 
proportion.  Moreover,  as  it  was  moving  upstream, 
its  digging  was  greatest  along  the  bottom  of  the 
valleys,  and  thus  it  rapidly  (as  compared  to  the  work 
of  water  streams),  cut  the  deep  Finger  lake  valleys 

179 


At  Cornell 

we  know  today,  of  which  Cayuga  is  the  type.  Event- 
ually the  ice  covered  all  the  hilltops,  its  depth  must 
have  been  over  two  thousand  feet,  but  during  all 
this  time  the  north  and  south  valleys  were  the  main 
channels  of  movement,  and  in  these  highways  the 
greatest  erosive  force  of  the  ice  expended  itself 
throughout  glacial  time.  Moreover,  the  tributary 
valleys  were  protected  somewhat,  perhaps,  by  the 
fact  that  the  ice  filling  them  acted  as  a  wedge,  whose 
upper  surface  afforded  a  gliding  plane,  over  which 
the  succeeding  flow  moved  southward,  and  thus 
these  east -west  valleys  remain  practically  unchanged, 
while  the  north  and  south  valleys  are  so  tremend- 
ously overdeepened  along  their  axes.  The  nature  of 
this  overdeepening  accounts  at  once,  also,  for  the 
abrupt  change  of  slope  which  the  Cayuga  valley 


Etti  of  a  ^Ballrg  CSlaripr 
180 


The  Waters  of  Cayuga 

shows  at  the  level  of  eight  hundred  feet  above  the 
sea ;  above  that  elevation  the  slope  is  gentle ;  below 
it  descends  abruptly,  and  almost  cliff-like,  to  the 
lake  bottom. 

But  the  story  of  the  lake's  basin  is  not  complete 
with  the  history  of  the  gouging  out  of  the  valleys. 
For,  as  the  glacial  period  came  to  a  close,  the  south- 
ward motion  of  the  great  mass  became  ever  less 
active,  and  the  melting  at  its  front  progressed  more 
rapidly.  Thus  the  great  sheet  wasted  away  north- 
ward, not  at  a  uniform  rate,  but  by  spurts  Where 
it  halted  for  a  time,  because  of  a  sort  of  equilibrium 
between  the  forces  which  still  pushed  feebly  from 
the  north,  and  the  ravages  on  its  mass  which  were 
made  by  melting;  there  accumulated  great  heaps 
of  the  debris  which  the  ice  always  enclosed  in  its 
mass,  and  dragged  along  at  its  bottom;  debris 
heaps  called  moraines.  During  a  period  when  the 
agencies  of  ablation  prevailed,  and  the  front  was 
melted  back  steadily,  there  was  left  behind  only  a 
nearly  uniform  sheet  of  this  debris,  the  till  sheet  of 
all  the  glaciated  areas. 

These  alternate  stands  and  retreats  of  the  ice 
front  have  a  particular  significance  when  they 
occurred  after  the  ice  lobes  had  melted  back  to  the 
north  side  of  the  Susquehanna-Ontario  divide.  For 
as  soon  as  this  point  was  passed,  the  north  flowing 
streams  were  again  free  to  flow— as  far  as  the 
glacier  front — where  their  waters  were  ponded  by 
the  great  dam  which  the   ice-sheet  stretched  from 

181 


At  Cornell 

east  to  west  across  the  country.  Thus  small  lakes 
were  formed,  one  at  the  head  of  each  of  the  north- 
sloping  valleys.  As  the  glacier  took  stands  ever 
farther  to  the  north,  these  lakes  coalesced,  forming 
broader  and  broader  sheets  of  water,  so  that  at  one 
time  the  water  from  the  Ithaca  region  outflowed 
from  this  glacial  dammed  lake  and  reached  the  sea 
through  the  Hudson  river.  This  stage  existed  when 
the  ice  had  uncovered  the  Mohawk  river  divide  and 
the  outflow  was  over  it,  and  then  the  waters  were 
greatest  in  expanse.  After  that.  Lake  Ontario  was 
freed  from  ice  and  the  present  drainage  was 
established. 

Each  new  outflow  meant,  necessarily,  a  lower 
level  for  the  ponded  waters.  And  the  records  of 
these  varying  levels  of  Cayuga  remain  today  in  the 
shape  of  deltas  which  the  tributary  streams,  such  as 
Fall  creek  and  Coy  Glen  Stream,  formed  in  these 
higher  level  lakes  with  the  sediment  load  they  car- 
ried. Thus  Cornell  Heights  are  built  on  the  succes- 
sive delta  terraces  of  Fall  creek,  while  opposite,  on 
the  western  side  of  the  Cayuga  valley,  one  can  count, 
at  Coy  Glen,  four  distinct  flat-topped,  delta  terraces 
of  that  stream,  each  marking  a  different  level  of  the 
glacial  lake.  These  deltas  contain  the  coarse  mater- 
ial which  the  streams  brought  down,  the  fine  clay 
was  distributed  widely  over  the  whole  lake  bottom, 
and  is  now  found  spread  over  all  the  slopes.  Ice- 
bergs broke  off  from  the  glacier  front  and  floated 
out    into    the    lake,    carrying    angular,    glacially- 

182 


The  Waters  of  Cayuga 


JUift  "J^toM*  CSiattta"  aa  J^irturfi  bg  an  Iraqame  Artiat 

scratched  boulders,  which  melted  out  and  were 
dropped  far  from  shore  in  the  midst  of  the  fine 
clay  deposits  forming  on  the  bottom. 

There  remains  one  more  point  in  this  glacial 
story,  as  it  relates  to  Cayuga.  When  the  retreat  of 
the  ice  had  been  accomplished,  to  what  is  now  the 
outlet  of  the  lake,  a  long  halt  occurred,  and  a  great 
moraine  accumulated.  This  forms  the  dam  which 
keeps  Cayuga  at  its  present  level.  It  does  not 
account  for  all  its  depth  however,  for  the  maximum 
of  this  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  gouging  of  the 
glacier  was  unequal,  and  greatest  near  the  southern 
end  of  the  lake,  where  the  depth  is  four  hundred 
and  twenty-five  feet.  The  east  and  west  tributaries 
of  the  former  Cayuga  stream,  whose  valleys  the  ice 
did  not  erode  so  deeply,  now  pour  their  waters  into 
the  lake  valley  in  the  numerous  waterfalls  which 
make  its  slopes  so  picturesque. 

183 


At  Cornell 

It  is  a  disputed  question  whether  man  existed 
in  North  America  during,  or  at  the  close  of  the 
glacial  time.  That  must  have  been  at  least  five 
thousand  years  ago.  Certainly  no  records  or  relics 
have  been  found  in  the  Cayuga  region  which  indicate 
his  presence.  Only  with  the  coming  of  historic 
times  can  we  once  more  find  a  legible  page  of  the 
Cayuga  story.  Then  the  Iroquois  Indians,  of  the 
Six  Nations,  dwelt  in  the  region.  Of  these,  the 
Cayugan  tribe  dwelt  on  the  east  side  of  the  lake, 
while  the  Senecas  had  their  villages  on  the  other. 
From  the  myths  of  the  loves  and  wars  of  these  proud 
redmen,  we  have  the  pretty  legend  of  the  origin  of 
Frontenac  island. 

In  the  early  days  there  dwelt,  in  a  village  on 
the  east  side  of  the  lake,  near  the  modern  Union 
Springs,  a  Cayuga  chieftain,  who  loved,  and  was 
loved  by  a  Seneca  maiden,  whose  home  was  situated 
at  a  point  on  the  lake  nearly  opposite.  Their 
courtship  had  begun  in  days  when  the  tribes  were 
friendly,  but  after  that  time  the  Cayugas  and 
Senecas  had  become  bitter  enemies,  and  the  lovers 
were  denied  their  former  meetings.  This  state  of 
affairs  had  continued  some  months,  and  the  breach 
between  the  tribes  grew,  it  seemed,  ever  greater. 
Becoming  impatient  of  a  tribal  peace,  the  Cayuga 
chieftain  resolved  to  act  for  himself. 

On  the  west  bank  of  the  lake,  to  the  north, 
was  situated  the  Seneca  village  Ganoga,  on  the  site 
of  the  modem  Canoga.      Toward  it  the  Cayugan 

184 


Moonltglit  on  (EaQuga  Uakr 


I 


The  Waters  of  Cayuga 

chieftain  dispatched,  one  morning,  two  of  his  great 
war  canoes,  loaded  with  braves,  who  had  orders  to 
proceed  as  if  intent  on  attacking  the  town.  Im- 
mediately, on  noting  these,  the  warriors  of  the  girl's 
family  and  relatives,  hurried  northw^ard  along  the 
shore,  to  give  assistance  to  the  threatened  Ganogans, 
precisely  as  the  Cayugan  chieftain,  now  embarked 
in  a  light  canoe  and  paddling  directly  across  the 
lake,  with  might  and  main,  had  anticipated.  The 
maiden,  on  her  part,  had  early  discovered  the  soli- 
tary canoeman ;  had  discerned  his  identity,  and  was 
in  waiting  when  his  canoe  grated  on  the  shore.  A 
joyful,  instant's  greeting,  and  in  the  next  moment 
they  were  off  for  the  Cayugan  shore. 

Then,  when  the  lovers  were  but  a  little  ways 
out,  the  northward-hurrying  Senecas  again  perceived 
the  small  canoe ;  which  had  made  them  apprehensive 
by  its  course,  even  when  occupied  only  by  a  lone 
paddler.  Now,  with  a  double  load,  they  divined  the 
ruse,  and,  with  cries  of  rage,  hurried  back  and 
launched  their  war  canoe  in  pursuit.  Thus  began 
a  stern  chase,  in  which  the  pursued,  from  the  start, 
lost  advantage.  Although  the  maiden  lent  heroic 
aid,  she  had  not  the  strength,  and  her  lover  was 
already  tired  from  his  previous  trip;  thus  they  two 
could  not  cope  with  the  fresh  and  furious  braves 
who  impelled  the  pursuing  craft  with  swift  and 
terrible  strokes. 

By  now  they  were  nearing  the  eastern  shore,  but 
the  distance  between  the  elopers  and  their  pursuers 

187 


At  Cornell 

had  narrowed,  so  that  the  former,  not  daring  to 
stop  to  look  back,  could  yet  hear  the  rush  of  the 
water  against  the  prow  of  the  avengers'  canoe. 
Once  ashore,  on  the  eastern  side,  and  they  were 
safe,  for  the  Senecas  would  not  dare  land  on  Cayugan 
territory  in  such  small  force,  but  all  chance  of  reach- 
ing this  seemed  lost. 

Then  suddenly  came  a  mighty  roar,  and  a  great 
ring  wave  carried  the  lovers,  with  a  rush,  high  up 
on  the  beach,  while  its  opposite  hurled  back  the 
pursuers,  almost  to  their  destruction;  and  behold, 
in  the  space  between  there  arose  the  rock  sides  of 
Frontenac  island.  The  Great  Spirit,  who  looks  with 
favor  on  all  lovers,  had  interceded,  and  had  raised 
this  island  from  the  lake  bottom  to  save  the  chieftain 
and  his  sweetheart.  But  that  was  not  the  only 
outcome.  For  the  Indians  perceived  this  manifes- 
tation with  great  awe,  and  their  medicine  men 
declared  that  it  signified  the  Great  Spirit's  dis- 
pleasure at  the  enmity  of  the  tribes.  Therefore  a 
council  was  convened  and  peace  declared  between 
the  Cayugas  and  Senecas. 

With  the  completion  of  the  Erie  canal  in  1825, 
Cayuga  lake  first  loomed  large  in  the  annals  of  the 
white  settlers  of  Central  New  York.  Its  presence 
meant  to  them  that  Ithaca,  at  its  southern  end, 
should  become  a  future  metropolis.  For  all  the 
region  of  southern  New  York  and  northern  Pennsyl- 
vania contributed  its  produce  for  shipment,  over 
the  lake  waters,  to  the  lake's  northern  end,  where 

188 


The  Waters  of  Cayuga 

a  branch  canal  connected  it  with  the  Erie  highway. 
And  indeed  those  were  busy  days  for  Ithaca.  Later 
a  railroad  was  built  from  Ithaca  over  the  Ontario- 
Susquehanna  divide,  a  few  miles  south  of  Ithaca, 
to  the  Susquehanna's  shores,  whence  shipments 
could  once  more  be  transported  eastward  by  water. 
Here,  then,  was  an  eastward  outlet  also,  for  fast 
travel  from  the  west.  Wheat,  and  coal  from  Penn- 
sylvania fields,  were  the  early  heavy  freight  in 
the  region,  as  they  remain  today,  but  no  more  do 
the  shipments  go  over  Cayuga's  waves,  for  the  rail- 
roads have  eliminated  that  route.  But  as  the  Inlet 
at  Ithaca  is  now  being  deepened,  and  a  deep  water 
canal  connection  at  the  northern  end  of  the  lake, 
between  it  and  the  new  Erie  barge  canal,  is  promised, 
transportation  and  commercial  activities  will,  no 
doubt,  in  some  measure  again  enliven  this  route  in 
the  near  future. 

Today  the  shores  of  Cayuga  lake  are  dotted 
with  summer  cottages  and  hotels,  and  it  has  become 
the  summer  pleasure  retreat  of  all  those  who  reside 
in  the  cities  located  on  or  near  its  confines;  and, 
indeed,  it  attracts  many  visitors  from  the  larger 
cities  of  the  east.  For  the  lake  acts  as  a  gigantic 
balance  wheel  to  the  climate  of  its  basin,  moderating 
its  otherwise  oft  recurring  extremes.  Thus  on  hot 
days  there  is  always  a  cool  breeze  from  the  lake, 
to  take  the  place  of  the  light  heated  air  which 
rises  from  the  land,  and  on  cool  days  the  lake 
acts  as  a  great  warming  pan,  giving  off  a  grateful 

189 


.4/  Cornell 


i^tarting  for  a  ^ail  on  (Eayuga 

warmth,  when  areas  nearby  are  chilly  and  uncom- 
fortable. 

Though  the  fishing  is  not  what  it  might  be,  due 
perhaps,  to  the  introduction  of  the  German  carp, 
and  to  seining  in  the  past,  yet  many  fine  catches  of 
pickerel  and  bass  are  reported,  and  an  enthusiastic 
group  of  Isaac  Waltons  make  it  their  especial 
domain.  More  numerous,  however,  are  the  motor 
boat  devotees,  for  the  summer  evenings  are  punctu- 
ated, these  times,  with  the  unceasing  chatter  of 
their  engines,  and  swell  after  swell  races  musically 
along  the  shores,  sent  out  by  the  speeding  boats. 
The  lights  which  these  boats  carry  dot  the  water  as 
though    numerous    fireflies    were    flitting    over    its 


190 


The  Waters  of  Cayuga 

expanse.  Only  less  in  numbers  to  these  motor  boat 
speeders,  are  the  canoeists  and  yachtsmen,  to  whom 
the  lake  seems  wholly  alloted  in  the  late  afternoon 
hours.  The  latter,  especially,  take  advantage  of  the 
land  breeze,  which  springs  up  almost  unfailingly 
towards  evening,  to  spread  their  snowy  sails.  The 
long,  straight  reach  of  the  lake,  unbroken  by  islands, 
is  especially  favorable  for  their  sport;  although 
islands,  and  the  accompanying  sheltered  nooks  they 
create,  would  be  an  appreciated  change  of  conditions, 
from  the  viewpoint  of  the  canoeists  who  idly  paddle 
over  the  lapping  waves,  with  summer  girls  in  white, 
picturesquely  ensconced  in  the  bows  of  their  craft. 
And  we,  who  are  onlookers  only,  wonder  if 
ours  is  not,  perhaps,  the  best  sport,  this  having  the 
ever-changing  picture  before  us.  Leastways  we  feel 
that  to  be  at,  or  on  Cayuga's  water,  is  compensation 
for  many  hours  of  toil,  in  the  city  or  on  the  hill; 
and  the  days  spent  on  Cayuga  are  always  cherished 
memories. 


191 


3tt  Jttitan  Sim^fi 


3n  3n&tan  ©tmra 

"  On  the  bosom  of  Cayuga, 
In  the  time  of  long  ago, 
There  were  races  well  contested 
Where  the  Indian  came  to  row." 

3F  ONE  pictures,  in  the  mind's  eye,  the  scene 
which  the  above  lines  portray,  there  is  bom 

into  consciousness  a  thrill  from  out  of  the  past. 
Bark  canoes,  naked  redmen  and  barbaric  shouts  of 
encouragement  to  the  contestants;  all  this  one  sees 
in  the  imagination  as  the  setting  for  the  primitive 
race.  And  then  the  picture  fades,  for  how  little 
more  do  we  know  of  these  pristine  Cornellians  and 
their  trials  and  triumphs;  either  on  the  course  over 
which  we  now  so  inevitably  row  to  victory,  or  of 
their  larger  battles, — of  their  traditions  and  their 
lives? 

And  this  ignorance  is  the  more  strange,  in  the 
light  of  the  general  popular  interest  all  things  Indian 
possess  today ;  especially  so  as  the  Iroquois  Indians 
of  the  Five  Nations  were  our  forerunners  in  this 
region,  and  they,  among  the  redmen  of  their  time, 
held  a  place  second  to  none;    were  considered  first, 

195 


At  Cornell 

among  the  tribes  north  of  Mexico,  in  poHtical 
organization,  statecraft  and  miHtary  prowess.  In- 
deed, we  almost  owe  it  to  ourselves,  to  become 
acquainted  with  this  splendid,  primitive  nation 
of  the  past  who  dwelt  where  now  our  Alma  Mater 
has  her  place.  And  the  more  so  because  their  story* 
would  possess  abundant  interest  even  though  shorn 
of  these  associations. 

The  stock  from  which  the  Iroquois  trace  their 
descent  had  its  original  home  to  the  north  and 
east  of  this  region,  along  the  St.  Lawrence.  From 
thence  they  seem  to  have  spread  to  the  west,  north 
and  south,  and,  in  this  time  of  migration,  those 
tribes,  the  Cayuga,  Mohawk,  Oneida  and  Onon- 
daga, which  were  later  to  form  the  confederation 
of  the  Five  Nations,  came  to  central  New  York,  to 
the  region  of  the  Finger  Lakes. 

And  it  was  Hiawatha  who  brought  about  their 
union.  This  surprises  you,  for  Longfellow's  poem, 
which  has  made  Hiawatha's  name  familiar  the  world 
over,  associates  the  great  law-giver  and  reformer 
with  the  northern  Chippewas  of  the  Great  Lakes  a 
mistake  for  which  we  may  blame  Schoolcraft,  the 
Indian  historian,  who  confused  Hiawatha  with 
Manabozho,  a  Chippewa  deity.  As  a  result  of  this 
mistake  the  poem  contains  no  single  fact  or  fiction 
regarding  the  real  Hiawatha. 

It  was  probably  near  the  year  1570  A.  D.  that 

•  The  publications  of   the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  of  the  Smithsonian 
Institution,  are  authority  for  many  of  the  facts  presented  in  this  sketch. 

196 


In  Indian  Times 


.<,J:)I3TEJ£.UTI0N  c^ 
THE  IROQUOIS  * 


sift  {Swrilorg  of  tiff  Uroqixaia 

Hiawatha  achieved  his  Hfework.  He  was  it  seems 
a  Mohawk,  by  birth,  but  began  his  great  work  of 
reform  among  the  Onondagas,  associated  with  Deka- 


197 


At  Cornell 

nawida,  another  Indian  reformer.  These  two  sought 
to  bring  about  a  new  order  of  things,  a  program 
which  had  for  its  object  the  ending  of  all  strife, 
murder  and  war,  and  the  promotion  of  universal 
peace  and  wellbeing.  Thus,  for  example,  among 
his  propositions  was  one  that  twenty  strings  of 
wampum  were  to  be  paid  to  the  bereaved  for  the 
murder  of  a  co-tribesman,  ten  for  the  murdered 
one's  life  and  ten  for  the  life  of  the  murderer,  which, 
by  his  act,  was  otherwise  forfeited.  The  chief  of 
the  Onondagas  however,  bitterly  opposed  these 
reforms,  and  murdered  Hiawatha's  daughters  during 
the  progress  of  the  propaganda.  Then  Hiawatha 
exiled  himself  from  the  Onondagas,  sought  and  was 
also  refused  help  by  the  Mohawks,  and  came  then, 
finally,  to  the  Oneidas  and  the  Cayugas,  which 
latter  had  their  domain  about  Cayuga  Lake.  These 
tribes  readily  assented  to  his  plans,  on  condition 
that  the  Mohawks  also  join  the  confederation,  and, 
as  it  proved,  after  the  others  had  taken  the  initia- 
tive, the  Mohawks  quickly  consented;  and  then  the 
three  tribes  brought  their  combined  influence  to 
bear  on  the  Onondagas,  who,  on  their  part,  made  it 
a  condition  that  the  Senecas  enter  the  union.  A 
portion  of  the  Seneca  finally  agreed,  and  then  the 
Onondaga  came  in,  and  thus  was  formed  the  con- 
federation of  the  Five  Nations. 

Their  own  name  for  this  organization  was 
" Ongwanonsionni, "  'we  are  of  the  extended  lodge,' 
and  its  scheme  of  government  was  patterned  after 

198 


In  Indian  Times 


fM 


that  of  the  Cayuga  tribe. 
Wars  were  carried  on,  it 
is  true,  by  the  confeder- 
ation, to  secure  and  per- 
petuate its  pohtical  Ufe, 
and  the  tribes  practised 
a  ferocious  cruelty  on 
their  prisoners,  burning 
even  their  unadopted 
women  prisoners,  but  in 
their  social  and  political 
life  they  were  really  a 
kind  and  affectionate 
people,  full  of  keen  sym- 
pathy for  kin  and  friends 
in  distress,  exceedingly 
fond  of  their  children, 
anxiously  striving  for 
peace  among  men,  and 
profoundly  endowed  with 
a  just  reverence  for  the 
constitution  of  their 
commonw^ealth  and  its 
founders. 

Curiously  enough, 
their  kinship  was  traced 
through  the  blood  of  the 
women  only.  The  sim- 
plest union  of  the  con- 
federation was  what  might  be  termed  a  brood  fami- 


^tringa  of  Sraquais  Wampum 


199 


At  Cornell 

ly,  composed  of  the  progeny  of  a  woman  and  her 
female  descendants,  counting  through  the  female 
line  only.  This  simple  unit  surrendered  part  of 
its  autonomy  to  the  next  higher  unit,  and  so  on. 
Kinship  meant  membership  in  a  family,  and  this, 
in  tiim,  constituted  citizenship,  and  conferred  cer- 
tain social,  political,  and  religious  privileges,  duties 
and  rights,  which  were  denied  persons  of  alien  blood, 
who  might,  however,  be  adopted  into  a  family.  The 
three  functions  of  government  were  exercised  by 
one  and  same  class  of  persons,  the  chiefs,  who 
were  of  three  grades  and  organized  into  councils; 
chiefship,  however,  was  dependent  on  the  suffrages 
of  the  matrons.  Iroquois  marriages,  again,  were 
arranged  by  the  mothers,  without  the  consent  or 
knowledge  of  the  couple. 

Once  organized,  the  confederation  soon  made  its 
power  felt.  After  the  coming  of  the  Dutch,  from 
whoni  they  obtained  fire-arms,  the  Iroquois  were 
able  to  extend  their  conquests  over  all  the  neighbor- 
ing tribes  until  their  dominion  was '  acknowledged 
from  the  Ottawa  river  to  the  Tenessee  and  from  the 
Kennebec  to  the  Illinois  river  and  Lake  Michigan. 
The  Chippewas  checked  their  westward  advance; 
the  Cherokees  and  Catawba  barred  their  way  in  the 
south,  while  in  the  north  the  operations  of  the 
French  ultimately  hindered  their  further  progress. 
And  yet,  when  they  had  reached  the  height  of  their 
power,  in  1677,  they  numbered  only  16,000  souls. 
Certainly  this  was  an  enterprising  nation,  when  one 

200 


In  Indian  Times 

considers  the  vastness  of  the  territory  they  ruled, 
as  compared  to  the  probable  number  of  their  warriors. 
In  fortification  their  skill  was  great.  Their  so-called 
castles  were  solid  log  structures,  with  platforms 
running  along  the  top,  on  the  inside,  from  which 
stones  and  other  missiles  could  be  hurled  down  on 
the  besiegers. 

On  the  outbreak  of  the  American  Revolution, 
the  League  of  the  Iroquois  decided  not  to  take  part 
in  the  conflict,  as  a  nation,  but  to  allow  each  tribe 
to  take  action  for  itself.  Yet  all  the  original  Five 
Nations  allied  themselves  with  the  English.  This 
alliance  was  of  far  greater  import  for  the  coming 
struggle  than  the  mere  statement  implies.  For  the 
Iroquois  tribes  were  sedentary  and  agricultural, 
depending  on  the  chase  for  only  a  small  part  of 


f- 

W 


(Sgtriral  ?Bark  ^aviBt  tit  Xi^t  Jroquota 


201 


At  Cornell 

their  subsistence.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war  they 
had  already  under  cultivation  an  immense  "  acreage" 
of  the  great  Central  New  York  region,  and  they 
possessed  live  stock  in  great  numbers.  On  the 
farms  were  raised  the  maize  or  Indian  com,  beans, 
pumpkins;  and  orchards  of  peach,  apple  and  pear 
blossomed  annually,  making  bright,  in  the  spring- 
time, all  the  interlake  country  between  Cayuga  and 
Seneca.  Few  white  men  had  ever  seen  this  region 
of  the  Iroquois  home,  before  the  war,  but  the 
British  quickly  appreciated  its  possibilities,  for 
immediately  thousands  more  acres  were  cleared  and 
tilled  under  their  direction,  and  thus  Central  New 
York  became  a  great  storehouse  and  granary  for 
the  British  armies. 

That  their  enemies  should  thus  easily  gain 
subsistence  from  the  land  while  they  themselves 
often  suffered  need  was,  of  course,  a  sore  thorn  in 
the  sides  of  the  Continentals.  Therefore,  in  1779, 
Washington  commissioned  General  Sullivan,  with  an 
army  of  five  thousand  men,  practically  one-third 
the  whole  Continental  army,  to  advance  from  three 
directions  into  the  Iroquois  country,  and  ravage  it 
utterly,  so  that  it  could  not,  for  a  long  time,  be  a 
base  of  supplies.  And  this  commission  was  carried 
out  to  the  letter,  the  Indian  towns,  with  their  great, 
long,  bark  houses,  plunder-filled,  were  burned,  the 
maize  in  the  fields  destroyed,  and  the  live  stock 
scattered  and  killed.  Among  the  towns  which  suf- 
fered this  fate  were  two  on  Cayuga  lake,  Ganoga, 

202 


In  Indian  Times 

the  site  of  the  modern  Canoga,  and  Coreorgonel,  a 
village  in  the  Inlet  valley,  just  south  of  the  present 
Ithaca.  A  detailed  record  of  this  march  into  the 
wilderness,  of  the  trials  and  the  struggles  endured 
in  the  dragging  of  cannon  through  the  swamps  and 
marshes  of  the  flat-topped  divides,  is  contained  in 
the  diaries  of  the  army  officers,  and  to  these,  of 
which  the  University  Library  possesses  copies,  the 
interested  reader  is  referred. 

It  seems  a  great  pity  that  there  was  no  photo- 
graphy in  those  days  to  preserve  for  us  the  condi- 
tions and  the  intimacies  of  this  Indian  life.  As  it  is, 
we  can  do  little  more  than  conjecture  its  circum- 
stances. Where  words  suffice,  a  few  details  have 
come  down  to  us.  Money  is  today  a  word  to  conjure 
with,  and  even  now  its  Indian  equivalent,  wampum, 
still  has  clinging  to  it  enough  of  its  old  association 
to  make  it  a  sort  of  fetish,  demanding  introduc- 
tion into  the  Indian  poetry  of  our  authors.  Yet 
one  may  question  whether  many  readers  know  of 
what  a  string  of  wampum  consisted.  It  is,  therefore, 
interesting  to  know  that  this  wampum,  which  existed 
as  currency,  even  among  the  white  people  in  the 
early  Colonial  period,  and  in  New  York  as  late  as 
1693,  was  simply  strings  of  white  and  black  beads, 
carved  from  the  valves  of  the  quahog  and  other 
molluskan  shells.  The  darker  ones  had  a  greater 
value  than  the  white;  according  to  Holm,  "a 
white  bead  is  of  the  value  of  a  piece  of  copper  money, 
but  a  brown  is  worth  a  piece  of  silver."    This  wam- 

203 


At  Cornell 

pum  could  be  carried  much  more  conveniently  than 
skins  for  trading  purposes,  and  it  was  readily 
measured  out  in  payment,  by  the  length  of  the 
thumb,  "from  the  end  of  the  nail  to  the  first  joint 
makes  six  beads." 

Of  the  Iroquois  mythical  and  legendary  lore, 
more  is  preserved.  David  Cusick,  one  of  their 
number  who  received  an  English  education,  wrote 
out  a  number  of  these  myths  in  his  '  History  of  the 
Iroquois.'  The  myths  are  all  concerned  with  the 
creatures  of  their  religious  beliefs;  to  whose  activi- 
ties they  ascribe  the  origin  of  the  many  striking 
natural  phenomena  of  the  region.  The  Taughan- 
nock  Falls  story  is  perhaps  the  most  interesting  of 
these,  and  runs  substantially  as  follows: 

In  the  long-ago  days,  when  the  stone-clothed 
giants  roamed  the  earth,  the  spirit  of  the  waters 
and  the  spirit  of  the  rocks  had  a  disagreement.  It 
seems  that  the  spirit  of  the  rocks  was  a  lazy  fellow, 
who,  as  are  lazy  characters  among  men  today,  was 
marked  most  definitely  as  such,  by  the  fact  that  he 
hated  to  see  industry  in  others.  The  water-spirit 
particularly  vexed  him  because  of  his  constant, 
every  hour,  activity;  and  the  evidence  of  his  acti- 
vity, which  one  encountered  everywhere.  There 
were  the  chafing  waves  of  the  lake,  the  driving 
rains  and  the  riving  frosts,  and  all  the  streams, 
little  and  big,  flowing  over  the  land.  Moreover, 
between  these  two  there  was  a  rivalry  of  strength, 
and,  as  is  generally  the  case  with  lazy  beings,  the 

204 


In  Indian  Times 

rock-spirit  was  a  boastful  fellow,  and  inclined  to 
sudden  spurts  of  tremendous  energy,  alternating 
with  much  longer  periods  of  idle  lolling.  At  length, 
one  day,  unable  to  contain  his  spleen  at  the  water- 
spirit's  activity  longer,  he  taunted  this  gentler  deity 
with  its  constant  laborious  toil  in  so  many  different 
forms,  and  recited  the  large  proportions  of  the  works 
he  accomplished  almost  in  an  instant,  how  he  sent 
great  rock  slides  crashing  down  the  slopes,  sprung 
loose  the  cliifs  into  the  lake  and  so  creating  great 
waves;  and  yes,  making  the  whole  earth  tremble  in 
earthquakes  when  he  stirred  his  underground  forces. 
Moreover,  he  insinuated  that  the  water-spirit  needed 
the  co-operation  of  the  wind-spirit  and  others  in 
his  accomplishments,  while  he  worked  independently. 

Aroused  by  these  insults,  uttered  in  the  presence 
of  the  thunder-spirit,  the  lightning,  the  wind  and 
the  tree-spirits,  and  many  others,  the  gentler  water- 
spirit  proposed  a  trial  by  combat,  to  determine  their 
relative  standing,  and  to  settle  the  aggravation  as 
to  dominance,  once  and  for  all  time. 

The  rock-spirit  readil}^  enough,  and  even  mock- 
ingly, agreed  to  the  conditions  the  water-spirit 
proposed,  and  a  time  was  set  when  all  the  spirits 
and  the  stone-clothed  giants  were  to  come  and 
witness  the  contest.  The  water-spirit  had  chosen 
to  fight  with  the  Taughannock  stream,  which  then 
flowed  quietly  down  an  even  slope  into  the  lake; 
while  the  rock-spirit  was  to  inhabit  an  immense 
rock,  great  as  a  pine  tree  in  height  and  many  times 

205 


At  Cornell 

as  wide  and  long,  which  lay  in  the  course  of  the 
same  stream.  The  terms  of  the  battle  were  that 
neither  was  to  give  up  until  one  or  the  other  had 
been  utterly  vanquished. 

At  the  agreed  time,  all  the  witnesses  assembled, 
and  the  combat  began.  The  rock-spirit  made  a 
tremendous  fuss  pushing  back  the  waters  and  lash- 
ing them  into  foam,  but,  even  when  it  seemed  that 
the  water-spirit  had  been  all  but  subdued,  it  would 
recover  fresh  energy  from  its  unceasing  upstream 
supply,  and  so  burst  the  barrier  of  the  rock-spirit, 
and  the  battle  would  then  begin  anew. 

While  to  the  spirits  all  this  contest  seemed 
short,  in  reality  it  occupied  years.  And  in  their 
struggles,  the  combatants  tore  a  great  hole  in  the 
earth,  a  half  mile  long  and  a  third  as  wide,  and 
three  hundred  feet  deep.  •  Finally  the  water-spirit, 
by  its  persistence  and  ever  renewed  small-strength, 
so  battered  into  fragments,  what  had  erst  been  a 
great  rock,  that  the  rock-spirit  could  no  longer  find 
lodging  place  sufficient  to  fight  from,  and  was  forced 
to  abandon  the  conflict,  and  the  water-spirit,  fresh 
as  ever,  was  unanimousl}^  approved  the  victor. 

Then  the  water-spirit  took  its  beautiful  white 
cloud  form,  thanked  the  stream  which  had  served 
it  so  faithfully,  and  ordained  that  it  flow  for  seven 
ages,  with  a  great  roar,  into  the  abyss  that  had  been 
wrought  during  the  struggle,  and  thus  serve  as  a 
warning  to  any  who  presume  to  think  that  bluster 
must  intimidate  those  who  are  quietly  doing.    And 

206 


In  Indian   Times 

so  we  have  the  record  of  the  water-spirit's  victory, 
preserved  even  until  now,  in  the  form  of  the  Taughan- 
nock  Falls. 

Today  the  descendents  of  the  Cayugas  are 
scattered  far  and  wide.  After  the  Revolution, 
some  had  already  moved  to  Ohio  and  Canada.  In 
the  former  place,  they  joined  other  Iroquois  and 
became  known  as  the  Seneca  of  Sandusky.  These 
are  now  in  Indian  Territory;  others  are  with  the 
Oneida  in  Wisconsin;  one  hundred  and  seventy-five 
are  with  the  Iroquois  in  New  York,  on  the  Indian 
reservation,  while  the  majority  of  the  surviving 
descendants  of  the  Cayugas,  some  seven  or  eight 
hundred,  are  on  the  Grand  river  reservation  in 
Ontario. 


207 


Otauglfannnrk 


m 


^  I  HERE  are  several  routes  which  one  may  follow 
tl  in  going  from  Ithaca  to  Taughannock,  and  of 
these  the  railway  trip  is  the  most  direct,  and 
is,  at  the  same  time,  very  interesting  as  it  overlooks 
Cayuga  lake,  from  the  cliffs  of  its  western  shore. 
Alighting  at  the  Taughannock  Falls  station,  one 
finds  a  pleasant  roadway  leading  down  to  the  Falls 
hotel,  which  has  a  most  romantic  setting  among  tall 
pines,  some  of  the  few  of  these  conifers  yet  remain- 
ing of  w^hat  were  once  whole  forests,  and  of  which 
the  gnarled  roots,  in  the  shape  of  field  fences,  now 
constitute  the  only  remaining  evidence  of  their 
former  existence. 

But  at  Taughannock  great  pines  still  border 
the  edge  of  the  gorge;  and,  starting  from  the  hotel 
veranda,  we  follow  a  precipitous  path,  overhung  by 
their  boughs,  to  the  various  prospects  of  the  falls, 
which  the  path  affords.  And  these  are,  perhaps, 
the  most  picturesque  views  that  can  he  had,  for 
from  these  points  one  sees  the  water  plunging  from 
the  smooth  platform  of  its  upper  channel,  over  the 
brink,  and  straight  dow^n  in  one  leap,  to  the  green- 

211 


At  Cornell 

shadowed  pool  below.  We  are  over  three  hundred 
feet  above,  and  a  greater  distance  removed  from 
where  the  concussion  of  the  waters  occurs,  and  the 
noise  of  their  meeting  reaches  us  but  faintly.  But 
the  glamour  of  the  scene  is  enticing.  One  instinc- 
tively speculates  on  the  possibility  of  staying,  for  a 
time,  at  this  quiet  retreat  where  the  pulse  of  the 
working  world  beats  but  feebly.  Here,  with  a  book 
and  a  pipe,  on  the  veranda,  looking  out  across  the 
deep  gash  in  the  hills,  on  the  swaying  trees  of  the 
opposite  rim,  and  with  a  peep,  perhaps,  in  the  cool 
of  each  morning  and  evening,  from  the  prospect 
point  near  by,  at  the  mystery  of  the  water  in  its 
endless  cyclic  course,  to  kindle  in  the  brain  the 
dream  fire  of  world  thoughts  remote  from  our  petty 
daily  routine — here  we  feel  we  could  pass  time,  aye 
for  a  fortnight,  in  simple,  big  contentment.  'Twould 
be  as  Shakespeare  has  King  Henry  yearn: 

"  Oh  God!   methinks  it  were  a  happy  life, 
To  be  no  better  than  a  homely  swain: 
To  sit  upon  a  hill,  as  I  do  now, 
To  carve  out  dials  quaintly,  point  by  point, 
Thereby  to  see  the  minutes,  how  they  run. 


Ah,  what  a  life  were  this!  how  sweet!  how  lovely!" 

The  inn  is  in  large  part  responsible  for  this 
atmosphere;  one  feels  that  in  it  one  has  made  a 
discovery.  Here  is  one  of  those  fabled  hostelries, 
where  everything  is  idyllic,  possessing  the  charm  of 
being  known  and   appreciated  only  by  the  elect. 

212 


Taughannock 

Perchance  painted  deceit  lurks  beneath  the  mask, 
but  had  one  the  time — it  were  well  worth  while  to 
make  the  try. 

Following  downstream,  there  are  other  points 
where  overhanging  ledges  offer  a  prospect  into  the 
deeps  below;  down  on  the  swaying  crowns  of  the 
tall  trees  which  root  in  the  valley  bottom,  and  over 
at  the  buttressed  rocks  of  the  opposite  wall,  all 
weatherworn  and  crumbly  in  the  hollows,  but  often 
with  bold,  sharp  fronts  and  sides,  where  a  newly 
exposed  joint  plane  cleavage  reveals  the  unaltered 
strata.  Through  a  little  doorway  in  a  log  shelter, 
a  little  farther  on,  one  comes  to  the  pathway  which 
affords  a  precarious  descent  into  the  gorge  itself. 

University  excursions  often  visit  this  locality, 
and  very  amusing  are  the  unexpected  traits  of  human 
character  which  often  crop  out  when  such  a  party, 
which  pure  chance  has  brought  together  for  an 
experience,  attempts  the  descent  into  the  gorge. 
Those  held  most  timid,  often  prove  least  nervous; 
on  the  other  hand,  the  traditionally  stoical  Oriental 
(for  the  classes  are  often  of  the  most  cosmopolitan 
composition) ,  very  frequently  crawls  up  a  treacher- 
ous slope  on  hands  and  knees.  The  path  which  we 
are  now  essaying  is  not  without  its  thrills  for  those 
who  have  had  no  experience  in  climbing,  and  its 
turns  and  crooks  have  a  charm  even  for  the 
initiated. 

No  one  has  "improved"  Taughannock  gorge 
with  sordid  wooden  walks  and  hand  rails,  so  that 

213 


At  Cornell 

we  see  it  in  its  pristine  charm.  For  which  the  Gods 
be  praised!  What  matters  a  wet  foot,  or  a  soiled 
skirt,  occasioned  by  a  slip  from  a  stepping  stone, 
or  an  uncautious  step  along  a  moist  green  ledge, 
compared  to  the  joy  of  pushing  into  the  wild,  unregu- 
lated by  the  hand  of  man!  A  faint  trail  of  former 
explorers,  gives  the  confidence  of  human  precursors, 
and  that  is  all  the  encouragement  we  need. 

But  let  us  note  what  interests  are  about  us. 
In  the  lower  end  of  the  gorge  the  rock  bed  of  the 
stream's  course  is  the  Tully  limestone,  and  from  a 
mixture  of  this  with  the  Hamilton  shales,  which  lie 
directly  below  its  twelve  feet  of  thickness,  is  made 
the  cement  which  is  calcined  and  ground  at  Portland 
Point,  on  the  east  shore  of  the  lake  near  Ithaca. 
The  rocks  above  the  Tully  are  the  crumbly  Genesee 
shales,  and  all  over  their  surface  one  sees  white 
deposits  of  alum  and  lime  carbonate,  where  the 
water  is  leaching  the  cements  from  the  fissile  layers. 
From  this  point  upward  it  is  an  easy  ramble  along 
ledges  and  through  woods  to  the  Falls;  and  along 
the  way  one  is  even  more  impressed  than  by  the 
view  from  above,  with  the  height  and  the  verticality 
of  the  beetling  cliffs  through  which  the  water  has 
cut. 

The  falls  themselves,  which  come  suddenly  into 
view  as  one  rounds  the  last  bend,  seem  to  belie 
their  reputed  height.  This  is  due  to  the  distance 
yet  intervening  between  us  and  their  base;  to  the 
fact  that  the  cliffs  on  each  side  are  much  higher 

214 


I 


iSauglfannatk  JFalla 


Taughannock 

than  the  falls  themselves,  and  most  to  the  fact  that 
our  sense  of  scale  seems  to  have  deserted  us.  How- 
ever, a  nearer  approach  to  where  the  spray  keeps 


Slauglfatttuirk  JfaUa  btfare  tl?p  Qlljangf  in  ti(t  3Form  of  lift  ffirrat 

217 


At  Cornell 

the  black-brown,  jointed  cliffs  constantly  moist,  and 
then  craning  the  neck  to  gaze  upward,  we  are  enabled 
to  regain  the  lost  sense  of  proportion,  and  the  true 
magnitude  of  the  plunge  the  waters  make  bursts 
upon  us,  and  the  falls  become  indeed  impressive. 
And  they  deserve  the  tribute  which  we  then  uncon- 
sciously bestow,  for  their  two  hundred  and  fifteen 
feet  of  fall  is  greater  than  that  of  Niagara  by  fifty- 
five  feet;  moreover,  Taughannock  is  said  to  be  the 
highest  waterfall  east  of  the  Rocky  mountains. 

In  former  years  there  was  no  break  in  the  falls, 
at  the  brink;  the  water  plunged  straight  down 
from  a  projecting  ledge,  whereas  the  lip  of  the  falls 
is  now  a  reentrant  angle.  This  change  in  form  is  a 
clue  to  the  origin  of  the  cataract,  for  it  points  out 
the  influence  of  the  many  joints,  intersecting  at 
right  angles,  which  here  cut  the  rocks  in  rectangular 
blocks.  Taughannock  creek,  like  the  other  streams 
with  gorge  valleys,  about  Ithaca,  is  probably  the 
result  of  post-glacial  erosion  by  the  stream.  In 
former  years,  geologically  speaking,  the  gorge  was 
probably  similar  in  character  to  the  other  gorges  of 
the  region  and  consisted,  as  these  latter  have  con- 
tinued since,  of  a  series  of  cascades  and  sloping 
reaches.  But  in  Taughannock  it  happened  eventu- 
ally that  the  edge  of  a  hard  layer,  a  little  above  the 
present  height  of  the  falls,  having  been  worn  back 
upstream  to  a  point  where  the  joint  planes  were  very 
closely  spaced,  the  water  was  enabled  to  work  faster 
than  it  had  in  the  less  broken  strata,  with  the  result 

218 


Sullprmilk  (Sorgr 


Taughannock 

that  it  swept  out  the  underlying  softer-  shales  very 
rapidly,  and  probably  developed  a  vertical  fall  of 
considerable  magnitude,  limited  in  height  only  by 
the  horizon  of  the  next  hard  layer.  At  the  down- 
stream edge  of  this  lower  resistant  layer,  a  fall  was 
also  working,  and  presently  it  too  had  reached  the 
jointed  area;  and  then  coming  almost  immediately 
within  the  influence  of  the  greater  fall  above,  it 
increased  its  height  and  thus  probably  doubled  the 
effectiveness  of  the  latter.  In  time  all  the  minor 
hard  layers  were  worn  back,  and  the  falls  they  had 
developed  were  combined  with  the  big  fall,  and  we 
.had  approximately  the  present  Taughannock  falls, 
with  its  height  of  two  hundred  and  fifteen  feet. 
This  is,  however,  about  the  limit  in  height,  for  the 
stream  is  cutting  down  its  bed  in  the  small  gorge 
above,  while  below  its  excavating  power  is  prac- 
tically limited  by  the  presence  of  the  durable  Tully 
limestone,  ten  to  fifteen  feet  in  thickness,  only  a 
few  feet  below  the  present  base  of  the  falls. 

This  explanation  of  the  falls  may  seem  plausible 
enough  to  the  observer  who  stands  at  the  cataract's 
foot,  but  there  remains  the  puzzle  of  accounting  for 
the  semi-circular  amphitheatre  at  which  he  gazes; 
and  which  is  far  too  wide  to  have  ever  been  directly 
under  the  influence  of  the  falling  water.  Yet  one 
has  only  to  note  how  constantly  the  walls  are  wet 
with  spray,  and  consider  how  the  freezing  of  this 
in  the  crevices,  and  the  consequent  expansion,  as 
the  water  solidifies  into  ice,  would  pry  off  the  blocks 

221 


At  Cornell 

on  both  sides  of  and  behind  the  fall,  with  the  same 
resistless  force  which  it  employs  on  our  water  pipes 
in  winter.  In  summer  this  spray,  which  trickles 
from  the  cliffs  in  little  runlets  of  silver,  simulating, 
in  the  most  fascinating  manner,  the  presence  of 
living  springs  in  the  rock;  does  a  lesser  work  of 
destruction  by  its  power  of  solution,  and  by  acting 
as  a  promoter  of  oxidation,  and  the  consequent 
disintegration  of  the  rock. 

Projecting  from  these  spray-moist  rocks,  are 
scattered  rounded  masses  about  the  size  of  a  man's 
head,  and  in  form  resembling  most  an  exaggerated 
red  peppermint  drop.  These  are  what  geologists 
call  concretions,  and  owe  their  origin  to  the  accumu- 
lation of  a  greater  amount  of  cement  around  a  central 
foreign  substance,  as,  say,  a  small  pebble,  while  the 
rocks  were  being  solidified.  They  project  out  from 
the  rest  of  the  wall  in  which  they  are  imbedded,  in 
part  because  they  are  more  resistant  to  the  weather- 
ing agents,  and  in  part  because  the  joint  planes  do 
not  ordinarily  cut  through  them.  Of  like  geological 
interest  are  the  "  dikes  "  which  cut  vertically  through 
the  rock,  and  can  best  be  seen  on  the  left  hand 
wall,  as  one  faces  the  falls,  and  near  the  end  of  the 
circular  arc  of  rock  which  curves  out  on  each  side 
from  behind  the  falls,  and  about  half  way  up  the 
cliff.  They  look  like  yellow-brown  tree  roots,  pene- 
trating the  strata,  except  that  they  are  tabular  in 
form.  An  examination  of  a  fragment,  of  which 
many  will  be  found  in  the  talus  heap  below  the 

222 


3tt  €ttfirU)  <6lttt 


Taughannock 

cliff,  shows  them  to  be  of  igneous  character,  with 
flakes  of  mica  crystals  in  the  central  core,  and  on 
each  side  an  iron-stained  oxidized  shell.  This  proves 
that  at  some  period  in  its  history,  and  after  the 
formation  of  the  sedimentary  layers,  volcanic  activ- 
ity was  present  in  this  region,  manifesting  itself 
by  the  forcing  of  hot,  molten  rock  magma  far  upward 
toward  the  earth's  surface  from  the  interior,  so  that 
it  penetrated  the  solid  rock,  and  on  cooling,  formed 
these  dikes. 

Turning  our  eyes  again  to  the  falls  themselves, 
we  may  spend  these  last  moments  before  quitting 
the  spot  most  pleasurably  in  watching  the  fall  of 
the  water.  As  we  look  upward  we  appreciate  the 
true  height  of  the  plunge  it  makes,  and  note  how 
the  at  first  unbroken  sheet,  before  many  feet  of  its 
descent  have  been  accomplished,  breaks,  and  then 
descends  as  a  myriad  of  meteors,  each  with  its  solid 
shooting  head,  and  a  glowing  trail  of  white  foam 
flecks  behind.  And,  indeed,  the  comparison  is  apt, 
for  in  both  cases  it  is  the  friction  of  the  atmosphere 
which  causes  this  phenomenon.  " Taghkanick, "  the 
Iroquois  called  the  falls,  signifying  '  there-is-water- 
enough,'  and  in  this  we  will  agree;  wishing  at  the 
same  time,  that  all  these  poetic  Indian  names  had 
been  retained,  as  here,  where  it  is  truly  in  keeping, 
for  the  white  man  has,  at  Taughannock,  for  once, 
appreciated  enough,  or  so  little,  as  to  leave  the 
gorge  in  its  primitive  beauty. 


225 


Watkmfi  ($lm 


w 


Matktna  (^Im 

fATKINS  GLEN  is  located  on  the  western  side 
of  the  Seneca  lake  valley,  at  the  southern  end 
of  the  lake,  and  cuts  up  through  the  steep 
hillside  which  hems  in  the  town  of  Watkins.  The 
glen  may  properly  enough  be  considered  an  adjunct 
of  the  Cornell  country,  for  a  majority,  perhaps,  of 
those  who  visit  it  are  Cornellians,  since  these  have 
had  a  desire  for  gorge  exploration  kindled  by  their 
climbs  in  the  many  rock  canyons  which  neighbor 
the  University  campus.  Watkins,  however,  offers 
little  opportunity  for  climbing,  as  it  has  been  made 
thoroughly  accessible  to  the  "tourist  in  a  hurry," 
by  means  of  metal  and  concrete  stairways,  and 
carefully  constructed  paths.  It  is  partly  on  this 
account  that  the  glen  is  best  known  of  all  the  gorges 
of  the  Central  New  York  region,  and  partly,  because 
Watkins  is  of  these,  at  once,  the  longest  and  the 
most  varied  in  its  component  features.  The  "im- 
provement" of  this  gorge,  by  me5,ns  of  stairs  and 
paths,  can  not  well  be  complained  of,  as  it  affords 
many  an  opportunity  to  see  the  glen  who  would  be 
physically  unable  to  scramble  from  ledge  to  ledge, 

229 


At  Cornell 

as  one  must  do  in  the  other  gorges  of  the  region. 
Nor  can  one  complain  of  the  style  of  this  improve- 
ment, as  carried  out  by  the  State  Commissioners, 
who  now  have  the  park  in  charge,  since  everything 
garish  has  been  excluded  and  only  neat  and  sub- 
stantial bridges  and  stairways  erected. 

It  will  not  be  amiss  here  to  review  briefly, 
something  of  the  physiographic  history  of  the  Cen- 
tral New  York  region,  a  subject  which  has  been 
outlined  more  fully  in  the  preceding  pages,  but 
which  will  bear  several  repetitions,  as  it  is  the  key 
and  clue  to  all  the  scenic  features  which  make  the 
region  attractive.  Central  New  York  is  a  plateau 
region,  greatly  dissected  and  eroded  by  the  scouring 
of  glacier  and  stream;  but  with  summits  which 
still  rise  to  an  elevation  of  two  thousand  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.  At  one  time  the  region  was 
the  bed  of  a  shallow  sea  whose  bottom  was  slowly 
subsiding,  and  into  whose  waters  many  streams  were 
pouring  clay  and  sand  sediments,  which,  falling  to 
the  bottom,  in  time  built  up  an  enormous  thickness 
of  shale  and  sandstone  rock  in  alternating  layers 
and  beds.  Then,  at  the  time  when  the  Appalachian 
mountains  had  their  ridges  uplifted,  this  region  was 
also  slowly  raised  until  it  attained  an  elevation  of 
perhaps  three  thousand  feet  above  the  sea  level. 
But  this  uplifting  was  no  sudden  movement,  rather, 
a  very  slow  process,  and  while  it  was  going  on  the 
rains  gathered  into  rills  and  streams  on  the  newly 
exposed  land,  and  finally  into  rivers,  and,  with  the 

230 


Watkins  Glen 

years,  these  cut  themselves  great  wide  valleys  into 
the  horizontal  rocks. 

The  main  valleys  that  were  developed  in  this 
manner  extended  in  a  north  and  south  direction, 
and  this  was  a  fact  most  significant  to  the  effects 
of  the  next  great  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  region — 
the  period  of  continental  glaciation;  a  period  when 
all  the  northeastern  United  States  was  engulfed  in 
a  great  ice  sheet.  For  when  the  ice,  from  its  north- 
em  center,  began  to  flow  and  spread  southward,  it 
moved  most  vigorously  in  the  troughs  of  the  north 
and  south  stream  valleys,  since  these  were  along 
the  line  of  the  direction  of  its  most  active  general 
motion.  Only  later,  and  more  sluggishly,  did  the 
ice  envelop  the  hilltops,  and  the  east  and  west 
valleys  which  lay  transverse  to  its  cotirse.  Now 
if  the  streams  had  been  able  to  cut  wide  valleys  for 
themselves,  the  ice  was  many-fold  more  effective; 
it  literally  scoured  and  gouged  out  a  course  for 
itself,  moreover,  it  was  not  limited  in  the  depth  to 
which  it  could  cut,  as  streams  are,  by  an  ocean 
level.  Consequently,  before  the  climate  changed 
and  the  ice  melted  away,  the  glacier  had  scoured 
out  the  bottoms  of  the  old  north  and  south  stream 
valleys  over  a  thotisand  feet  deeper  than  they  had 
been,  and  in  places,  one  hundred  and  more  feet 
below  the  level  of  the  sea.  Thus  came  into  being 
the  basins  of  the  Finger  lakes,  and  as  the  ice  melted 
away,  these  were  water  filled.  The  Italian  lakes  of 
the  south  side  of  the  Alps  are  of  an  identical  origin 

231 


At  Cornell 

to  these,  and  resemble  them  remarkably.  Thus 
Central  New  York  has  come  to  be  called  the  Switzer- 
land of  America.  The  English  lake  district,  which 
inspired  the  poetry  of  Wordsworth,  owns  the  same 
origin  and  charm. 

But  the  east  and  west  valleys,  as  the  result  of 
this  glacial  erosion  of  the  north  and  south  main 
valleys,  had  suffered  a  curious  fate.  They  were 
deepened  only  slightly  by  the  ice,  if  at  all,  and, 
consequently,  when  their  streams  were  again  free 
to  flow,  they  found  their  mouths,  which  had  formerly 
joined  the  main  streams  at  grade,  to  now  hang  from 
four  hundred  to  a  thousand  feet  above  the  trunk 
valley,  so  that  their  waters  must  needs  plunge  in  a 
great  waterfall  to  the  lower  level.  Nothing  daunted, 
they  immediately  began  the  work  of  readjusting 
things,  of  cutting  their  mouths  down  to  the  main 
streams'  grades  once  more;  and  it  is  this  down- 
cutting  which  has  given  us  the  gorges  and  waterfalls 
which  are  typified  by  Watkins  Glen. 

Watkins  Glen  is  only  in  minor  respects  different 
from  those  about  Ithaca;  it  has  the  same  origin, 
is  cut  into  the  same  kind  of  rocks  (shales  and  sand- 
stones of  the  Devonian  period,  horizontally  bedded), 
and  its  waters  are  tributary  to  the  larger  lake  valley. 
Its  distinctive  features  are  that  it  is  longer  and 
narrower,  and  that  its  characteristic  waterfalls  are 
neither  straight  falls,  like  that  of  Taughannock,  nor 
distinct  step  falls,  like  the  Ithaca  falls  and  those 
in  Cascadilla;    they  resemble  most  the  lower  falls 

232 


Wiftrt  llrr  MaUr  MaktB  Hang  Mibea 


Watkins  Glen 

of  Buttermilk,  places  where  the  water  makes  long 
steep  slides,  as  through  a  flume.  This  is  due  to 
several  peculiarities  of  the  rock  structure  in  Watkins, 
the  first  being  that  the  east  and  west  set  of  joint 
planes  (vertical  cracks  which  are  present  in  almost 
all  rocks  and  cut  them  into  blocks),  are  only  very 
obscurely  developed  in  the  rock  at  Watkins  Glen, 
whereas  those  running  north  and  south  are  present 
there  as  distinctly  as  in  the  gorges  around  Cayuga 
lake.  As  the  Watkins'  stream  flows  almost  directly 
east,  joint  planes  have  lent  little  if  any  guidance 
to  its  course,  for  as  it  cuts  directly  across  the  north 
and  south  cracks,  and  the  east  and  west  ones  are 
absent,  the  erosion  has  been  simply  that  of  a  con- 
tinuous grinding,  and  not  removal  in  blocks,  as  is 
the  case  where  both  sets  of  planes  are  present.  A 
comparison  of  picttires  will  make  this  clear. 

This  simple  erosion,  by  grinding,  accounts  for 
the  fact  that  Watkins  Glen  is  narrower  than  the 
other  gorges,  for  since  the  erosion  in  Watkins  was 
only  that  due  to  the  grinding  by  the  stream  with 
its  rock  fragment  tools,  the  cut  made  was  but  little 
wider  than  the  average  width  of  the  ribbon  of  water 
to  which  it  owes  its  origin;  and  this  again,  accounts 
for  the  fact  that  Watkins  Glen  is  narrower  than  the 
gorges  near  Ithaca.  No  blocks  are  removed  bodily, 
as  is  so  notably  the  case  in  the  gorges  about  Cayuga 
lake,  and  especially  apparent  in  Enfield  gorge.  The 
widening  at  the  upper  slopes  of  Watkins  Glen  is  due 
to  the  weathering  agents,  operative  with  the  same 

235 


At  Cornell 

effectiveness  here  as  in  other  parts  of  the  region, 
but  perhaps  also  impeded  here  by  the  absence  of 
the  east  and  west  joints,  though  in  less  degree  than 
are  the  agents  of  erosion.  The  smoothness,  in  places, 
of  the  cuts  that  the  water  has  made,  leads  one  to 
believe  that  the  rocks  at  Watkins  are  more  uniformly 
resistant  to  wear  than  those  in  other  gorges;  (they 
are  rocks  of  a  higher  horizon  and  can  well  have 
different  characteristics  than  those  around  the  south 
end  of  Cayuga  lake,  for  instance)  but  these  appear- 
ances may  be  deceptive,  and  the  conclusion  unwar- 
ranted. 

One  enters  the  gorge  almost  directly  from  the 
main  street  of  Watkins  town,  and  comes  first  to  the 
Alpha  glen  and  the  Entrance  cascade.  All  the  feat- 
ures of  the  Watkins  Glen  have  had  names  given 
them,  and  are  marked  by  unobtrusive  sign  boards; 
these  latter,  a  reform  effected  by  the  state  commis- 
sioners. Here,  at  the  entrance,  the  commission  has 
also  constructed  a  tunnel  through  the  solid  rock,  by 
the  passage  of  which  one  comes  into  the  character- 
istic portion  of  the  glen. 

Some  distance  up  the  gorge  the  Labyrinth  and 
Cavern  cascade  are  encountered.  The  Labyrinth  is 
the  name  applied  to  the  series  of  abnormally  steep 
stairs,  hung  back  and  forth  across  the  gorge,  by 
which  one  climbs  some  one  hundred  feet,  almost 
straight  up,  and  in  front  of  the  fall  of  the  Cavern 
cascade  and  its  circular  pothole,  to  a  higher  path 
along  the  side  of  the  upper  reaches  of  the  gorge. 

236 


Watkins  Glen 


The  Cavern  cascade  is  notable  in  that  it -is  the 
one  perpendicular  descent  in  the  gorge  of  any  mag- 
nitude. But  its  interest  is  in  the  huge  and  cylin- 
drical pothole  which  the  waters  have  ground  out  in 
the  rocks  at  the  base  of  the  falls,  and  which  is  even 
now  being  deepened  by  the  pebbles  and  boulders, 
its  tools,  which  the  water  is  swirling  about  on  the 
bottom,  and  so  grinding  and  scouring  the  rock. 
How  perfectly  this  is  done,  the  sides  of  the  pothole 

testify.  The  rocks 
are  almost  uniform 
in  resistance,  yet 
every  little  harder 
layer  stands  out  as 
a  rounded  ridge, 
and  the  soft  layers 
are  marked  by 
concave  hollows. 
Thus  the  side  of 
the  pothole  pre- 
sents a  remarkable 
series  of  ringed 
corrugations  which 
are  so  regular  as 
to  seem  artificial 
in  origin.  It  is 
curious  that  these 
fiutings  should 
not  have  been  de- 
Qiiip  dawrn  (HaBrabr  stroyed,    at    least 


237 


At  Cornell 

in  the  upper  portions  of  the  cylinder,  by  the  weath- 
ering action  of  frost  spUtting  off  fragments  of  the 
shale  rock,  and  the  fact  that  they  remain  intact 
over  the  whole  siirface,  probably  illustrates  the 
comparative  rapidity  with  which  such  pothole  cut- 
ting is  done  in  shale,  and  under  a  perpendicular  fall. 

Having  ascended  the  Labyrinth  stairs  and 
stopped  to  rest  and  regain  breath  on  the  lookout 
platform  at  the  top,  one  is  next  offered  the  choice 
of  three  paths  through  the  Sylvan  gorge,  just  beyond, 
above.  These  paths  are  respectively  high  above, 
half  way  down,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  gorge; 
and  the  middle  one  affords  perhaps  the  best  vantage 
ground  for  seeing  the  beauties  of  this,  the  prettiest 
of  the  series  of  gorges  which  make  up  the  glen. 
Here  the  cut  is  narrow  and  is  overhung  and  embow- 
ered by  the  evergreen  of  tall  hemlocks;  green  moss 
clothes  the  black  rock,  and  delicate  fronds  of  fern, 
of  a  yellower  hue,  relieve  here  and  there  the  monot- 
ony of  the  dark  green  of  the  moss  carpet.  This 
gorge  ends  in  the  Sylvan  rapids,  one  of  the  flume- 
like waterways  which  distinguish  Watkins,  and  of 
which  still  better  examples  occur  higher  up  in  its 
course. 

Beyond  the  Sylvan  rapids  the  gorge  widens  out 
into  the  Glen  Cathedral,  resultant,  probably,  from 
the  close  spacing  of  the  north  and  south  joints  at 
this  point,  and  the  consequent  more  rapid  weather- 
ing of  the  walls,  causing  this  enlargement.  The 
Cathedral  walls  are  almost  perpendicular,  and  may 

238 


Eifs  0glutatt  (&iiryp 


Watkins  Glen 

be  estimated  as  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet 
high.  On  their  sides  is  a  persistent,  yellow-green 
stain,  probably  sulphur,  released  by  the  weathering 
of  crystals  of  iron  pyrites  (iron  sulphide),  which 
occur  in  the  shale  rock. 

In  general,  the  names  that  the  commission  has 
given  to  the  features  in  the  glen,  are  rather  apt,  and 
much  more  pleasing  than  those  commonly  applied 
to  unusual  natural  phenomena.  In  many  localities 
there  seems  to  exist  an  irresistable  impulse  to  couple 
the  name  of  the  Satanic  majesty  and  his  abode,  to 
such  objects,  and  we  have,  in  consequence,  innum- 
erable Devil's  Punch  Bowls,  Devil's  Slides,  Hell 
Gulches,  and  the  like,  scattered  through  the  country. 
Yet  the  closely  following,  three  features  next  in 
order,  in  Watkins,  also  have  names  which  present 
anomalies.  First  there  is  an  old  pothole,  worn 
down  at  the  rim  until  it  has  been  made  quite  shallow, 
but  yet  retaining  its  original  width ;  this  is  called  the 
Baptismal  Font.  Then  comes  the  trite  in  names,  a 
Central  cascade,  to  be  followed,  just  above,  by  a  little 
comer  which  is  glorified  by  the  title.  Poet's  Dream. 

The  Central  cascade  best  exemplifies  what  has 
been  termed,  in  a  previous  paragraph,  the  "slides," 
which  the  water  makes  in  descending  the  gorge. 
At  this  point,  it  rushes  down  a  corkscrew  like, 
smooth  passage,  twisting  around  until  every  water 
particle  must,  perforce,  accomplish  complete  spirals 
in  its  descent,  and  then  help  hollow  out,  at  the  bot- 
tom, a  pothole  which  is  at  least  twelve  feet  deep. 

IT  241 


At  Cornell 

Above  the  Poet's  Dream  there  follow,  first,  the 
Emerald  Pool,  a  name  justified  by  the  beautiful 
green  of  the  deep  water,  and  then  the  Glen  of  Pools, 
where  the  path  comes  close  to  the  water's  edge  and 
one  can  observe,  close  at  hand,  and  even  feel  of  the 
smooth  carvings  the  water  with  its  pebble  and  sand 


Qtlfj  (firntral  (HaBtabe  —  A  ¥lmif  9aU,a 
242 


Watkins  Glen 

tools,  has  effected  in  its  rock  bed.  One  also  notes 
how  the  larger  rounded  stones  in  the  bottoms  of 
the  pools,  potholes  again,  are  cast  up  at  the  lower 
side  of  the  pool,  away  from  the  rush  of  the  water, 
to  lie  there  quiescent,  until  the  turbulent  current  of 
a  next  flood  period  shall  have  power  to  again  wield 
these  heavier  tools,  and,  whirling  them  round  and 
round,  grind  the  pools  yet  deeper. 

The  Glen  of  Pools  ends  with  the  pretty  Triple 
Cascades,  and  up  a  stairs  past  these  the  path  passes 
directly  behind  the  screen  of  the  water  threads  of 
the  Rainbow  Falls.  These  are  formed  by  a  small 
tributary  stream  which  potirs  its  slender  contribution 
of  clear  water,  from  nearby  springs,  over  the  sides 
of  the  main  gorge,  here  narrow  and  steep-walled. 
This  little  stream  could  not  cut  down  into  the  rock 
as  fast  as  the  main  stream,  both  because  its  volume 
was  deficient,  and,  flowing  south,  it  lacked  the 
grade  to  give  it  sufficient  velocity  to  carry  cutting 
tools.  Thus  this  little  stream  remains  hanging, 
instead  of  coming  in  at  grade,  as  normal  tributaries 
should,  and  forms  a  duplication  of  the  conditions 
which  have  given  rise  to  the  main  gorge,  but  here 
shown  in  the  first  stage  of  the  process.  For  just  as 
the  main  gorge  has  been  cut  back  from  a  first  water- 
fall, tumbling  directly  into  the  larger,  overdeepened 
Seneca  valley;  so  this  little  stream  now  tumbles, 
by  a  first  fall,  into  the  younger  Watkins  gorge,  and 
will,  in  time,  as  surely  etch  its  own  smaller  gorge 
in  the  side  of  the  main  glen.     But  for  all  the  years 

243 


At  Cornell 

that  we,  of  this  and  many  generations  to  come, 
shall  know  it,  there  will  be  little  appreciable  change ; 
it  will  stay  a  moss-lipped  falls,  raining  its  threads 
of  silver  directly  into  the  larger  cleft. 

In  tlie  next  feature  one  may  fear  that  the  com- 
mission has  been  a  little  amiss  in  the  name  it  has 
given:  Pillar  of  Beauty.  But,  as  there  is  a  some- 
what tame  stretch  here,  they  would  probably  plead 
that  it  was  interpolated  to  beguile  the  tourist  visitor, 
whose  interest  might  otherwise  flag  until  he  came 
to  the  Elfin  Gorge,  where  all  the  gorge  features  we 
have  thus  far  seen,  are  done  over  again  in  miniature. 
Then  one  comes  out  into  the  long,  wide,  open  stretch, 
called  felicitously,  Glen  Facility, — from  the  ease 
with  which  one  may  walk  along  a  natural  pathway, 
formed  by  a  ledge  of  sandstone  outcropping  along 
the  gorge  side.  This  ledge  has  been  cleared  of  the 
overlying  shales,  and  so  affords  a  perfectly  level 
and  smooth  pathway  to  the  head  of  the  glen,  at 
which  point  it  is  crossed  by  a  railroad  bridge.  Along 
this  stretch  the  irrepressible  American  tourist  finds 
opportunity  to  express  his  personality,  and  one 
notes  innumerable  flat  stone  tablets  set  up,  with 
scratched  inscriptions,  which  proclaim,  for  example, 
that  "Sile,  the  Colorado  cowboy"  has  been  here, 
and  that  he  wishes  to  exchange  picture  post  cards 
with  "handsome  girls."  Nor  are  the  handsome 
girls  backward,  they  too,  have  scratched  "Loma 
Thompson,  Fairville,  Maine,  R.F.D.  No.  3,"  and 
invited  a  like  courtesy.     There  is  a  naive  ciiriosity 

244 


Watkins  Glen 

within  us,  all  about  the  unknown  human,  and  a  desire 
to  come  in  contact  with  him,  which  here,  and  elsewhere 
similarly,  finds  in  this  way,  a  crude  expression. 

And  now,  having  clambered,  by  proxy,  through 
this  and  other  gorges,   you  ask  perhaps,   '  why  these 


^i\t  Stlurr  U^ljrpaiia  of  Kainbom  Sialla 

245 


At  Cornell 

guide-booky  articles?'  Well,  most  of  us  are  partners 
in  the  campaign  which  is  being  waged  against  the 
spoilation  of  our  American  scenic  resources,  but  how 
few  of  us  know  what  and  where  these  are,  excepting 
those  several  grand  features  which  have  been  adver- 
tised from  time  immemorial.  And  not  knowing,  can 
we  have  a  great  interest  in  their  preservation? 
That  a  region  so  near,  geographically,  to  the  centers 
of  our  population  as  this  central  part  of  New  York 
state,  should,  with  its  great  scenic  interest  and 
beauty,  be,  to  most  readers,  literally  as  foreign  to 
ken  as  the  Rockies  or  the  Alps,  is  certainly  a  con- 
dition which  one  ought  to  strive  to  overcome.  And 
when  persons  who  are  travelers  and  nature-lovers, 
and  thus  keenly  alive  to  the  charms  of  the  European 
landscape,  declare  this  region  to  excel  in  beauty 
and  wildness,  many  regions  in  Europe  which  are 
perennially  celebrated  by  the  American  tourist;  is 
it  not  time  that  we  point,  even  somewhat  vehem- 
ently, to  our  own  "nearby"  attractions? 


246 


Utl6  Jlnm^ra  Ifaunta  nnh  t\\t 

^^OR  the  Cornellian  botanist  and  wildflower 
IT  lover,  the  year  begins  with  the  blossoming 
of  the  arbutus  in  the  early  April  weeks. 
Sometimes,  indeed,  this  flower  peeps  out  from  under 
snow  hollows,  but  more  often  hides  under  the — 
fragrant  still — autumn  leaves,  on  the  sunny,  south- 
facing  slopes  of  the  hills.  And,  indeed,  the  flower 
lover  prizes  this  first  comer,  perhaps,  the  more 
highly  because  the  Cayuga  region  is  very  near  the 
western  limit  of  its  habitat.  That  it  is  not  abundant 
near  Cornell,  and  is  growing  scarcer,  helps  to  make 
it  precious.  The  threatened  extinction  is  feared 
from  the  ruthlessness  of  those  who  pull  up  the  whole 
plant  when  collecting  the  fragrant  pink  and  white 
blossoms.  Whether,  however,  any  check  is  put 
upon  such-  persons  by  tirging,  as  do  all  the  flower 
loving  essayists,  that  they  cease  their  vandalism,  I 
question,  nor  am  I  in  accord  with  them  in  their 
belief  that  its  localities  should  not  be  revealed  to 
others,  by  those  who  know,  for  the  worst  vandals 
are  those  who  profit  by  hawking  the  arbutus  in 

249 


At  Cornell 


the  city  streets,  and  the  uninitiated  and  unscientific 
searcher,  who  would  deHght  in  its  finding,  is  often 
disappointed  in  his  hunt,  for  lack  of  some  simple 
directions.  Look,  then,  you  newcomers,  to  whom 
the  historic  May-flower  of  the  Pilgrims  possesses 
romantic  interest,  on  the  warm  south  slopes  of  the 
hills,  near  the  shelter  of  some  pine  woods,  and  if 
you  would  be  sure  of  success,  go  far  afield,  for  the 
nearby  places  are  all  but  barren. 

The  arbutus,  firstling  though  it  be,  does  not  far 
precede  the  hepaticas,  who,  protected  by  their  fuzzy 
furs,  have  been  nestling  close  to  the  ground,  eagerly 
awaiting  the  first  peeps  of  the  warm  spring  sun. 


250 


Wild  Flowers  Haunts  and  the  Seekers  of  Them 

There  is  a  path  on  the  north  side  of  Beebe  lake, 
where  they  flourish  especially,  and  those  who  take 
the  first  opportunities  for  outdoor  excursions,  watch 
there  for  their  appearance.  Often  the  late  spring 
frosts  catch  them,  and  then  they  are  forced  to  retire 
to  their  furs  again,  but  seldom  are  they  completely 
vanquished.  A  "stunt"  which  affords  their  enjoy- 
ment, without  fear  of  nipping  frosts,  is  to  lift  a 
plant  or  two  which  is  full  of  buds,  and  bring  it  into 
the  house.  Then  you  will  have  a  succession  of 
flowers  for  two  weeks,  each  one  perfect.  This  Beebe 
path  is  also  a  famous  place  for  violets,  later,  when 
the  sun  has  climbed  so  high  in  the  heavens  that 
the  frosts  can  not  come.  Another  place  where  vio- 
lets are  exceedingly  abundant  is  on  Violet  Island  in 
the  Cascadilla  gorge.  This  island  is  situated  where 
the  gorge  widens  out  in  an  amphitheatre  beyond 
the  dam  which  marks  the  terminus  of  Goldwin 
Smith  Walk. 

One  of  the  prettiest  happenings  in  the  Cornell 
flora  is  the  blooming  of  the  bluet  colony  on  South 
hill.  There  are  literally  acres  of  the  delicate  little 
things,  so  fragile  that  one  would  think  the  fairest 
breeze  would  lay  them  low.  But  they  are  to 
their  conditions  sturdily  resistant,  and  never  fail  of 
an  appearance  at  their  appointed  time  in  May.  In 
the  thickets,  nearby,  fringing  the  pine  grove  rem- 
nants, there  come  in  the  early  June  weeks,  the 
showy  blossoms  of  the  sheep  laurel. 

But  it  is  in  the  gorges  that  the  real  display  of 

251 


At  Cornell 


Ui/l^l 

^ 

mW^Sm 

^^K.      A 

■V 0^  ^A''~ '^am^ttB^m' 

p 

■  *-^ 

imfc. 

P 

^^'- 

-^m 

^■piP^^^^^^'^^viipT^^^^    ' 

^^ 

the  May  weeks 
takes  place.  Hi- 
ram Corson,  it 
is  related,  once 
said  to  one  of 
the  unfit,  "The 
gorges  are  gor- 
geous, "and  was 
nearly  overcome 
by  spleen  be- 
cause that  good 
pun  was  un- 
appreciated. It 
must  have  been 
during  May 
that  the  gorges 
evoked  his  wit- 
ticism. For  then 
the  trilliums  are 
on  their  annual 
parade,  mar- 
shaled by  the  jacks-in-pulpits,  and  indeed,  it  is  a 
splendid  procession.  One  should  go  to  the  open 
places  of  Six  Mile  for  the  best  view.  There  you  will 
find  wild  flower  gardens,  planned  and  planted  by 
Nature.  Perhaps  you  have  not  realized  that  she  is 
the  original  artist,  and  the  best,  in  the  grouping  of 
flowers;  that  her  charges  are  not  scattered  singly 
through  the  woods,  but  are  disposed  in  gardens, 
most  fascinating  in  outline,  and  situated  where  their 


Mlfert  ll;r  ?[|r)iatiraa  jFlauriBl} 


252 


I  § 


Wild  Flowers  Haunts  and  the  Seekers  of  Them 

occupants  may  thrive  and  appear  at  their  best. 
So  it  is  especially  with  the  great,  white  trilliunis, 
nodding  their  precise,  dress  parade  salutes,  from 
the  tops  of  their  smooth  stalks. 

There  are  also  less  flaunting  inhabitants  of  the 
gorges;  and  some  which  are  almost  retiring.  Such, 
is  the  little  pink  Primula  Mitassinica.  This  primrose 
has  its  Mittassinica  species  name  from  a  lake  in 
northern  Labrador,  and  the  botanists  know  it  as  an 
Alpine  flower,  and  say  that  it  is  a  remnant  of  the 
flora  of  the  glacial  period,  left  behind  on  the  retreat 
of  the  ice,  and  now  found  only  in  the  coolest,  south 
sides  of  the  gorges,  where  the  winter  ice  sometimes 
persists  far  into  May,  and  whose  crevices  are  ever 
laved  by  the  coldest  of  spring  water.  Under  the 
bridge,  which  spans  Fall  creek  just  below  Beebe 
lake,  is  one  of  its  retreats,  and  in  Taughannock 
gorge  another. 

Griffis,  in  his  Pathfinders  of  the  Revolution, 
relates  a  pretty,  sentimental  story  regarding  this 
flower  and  its  occurrence  at  the  Fall  creek  locality, 
w^hich  is  worth  "repeating.  In  the  Revolutionary 
days,  one  Herman  Clute,  of  Schenectady,  then  a 
frontier  town,  had  a  sweetheart,  Mary  Vrooman, 
who  was  taken  captive  by  the  Indians  at  the  Cherry 
Valley  massacre.  The  Indians  carried  her  to  Kendaia 
near  the  site  of  the  modern  town  of  the  same  name, 
and  there  she  was  adopted  into  the  Seneca  tribe. 
Later  she  found  an  opportunity  to  send  a  letter 
back  to  her  white  friends,  by  a  captive  negro,  whom 

255 


At  Cornell 

the  Indians  regarded  as  a  trusty.  In  this  she 
described  a  hiding  place  she  had  discovered,  near 
a  great  waterfall,  in  a  gorge  at  the  south  end  of 
Cayuga  lake,  and  to  this  place  she  proposed  to  flee, 
if  ever  a  punitive  expedition  should  be  sent  into 
the  lake  country.  The  exact  locality  she  described 
as  being  recognizable  by  the  flowering  there,  on  the 
gorge  walls,  of  the  little  primrose,  which  she  had 
noted  only  here,  and  in  the  letter  she  included 
pressed  specimens. 

Not  long  after.  General  Sullivan's  expedition 
was  sent  out,  and  this  expedition  Herman  Clute 
joined,  with  great  hopes  of  rescuing  his  lost  sweet- 
heart. Eventually,  on  September  24,  1779,  a 
detachment  of  the  army,  under  Colonel  Dearborn, 
reached  the  southern  end  of  Cayuga  lake,  and 
destroyed  the  Indian  town  of  Coreorgonel.  with  its 
twenty-five  'elegantly'  built  houses.  The  Indians 
had  several  days  earlier  fled  the  country.  On  the 
next  day  Herman  Clute  obtained  permission  to 
seek  out,  if  possible,  the  hiding  place  of  the  captive 
girl,  and,  if  indeed  she  had  succeeded  in  escaping, 
to  bring  her  back  to  the  safety  of  the  camp. 

Once  again  that  morning  he  examined  carefully 
the  pressed  specimens  in  his  pocket  case,  and  then, 
with  fast  beating  heart,  hurried  forward.  Up  and 
down  Cascadilla  he  paced,  and  found  no  such  leaf; 
the  flowering  time  of  the  plant  was  now  long 
past.  Almost  despairing,  he  crossed  this  stream 
and  continued  northward,  until  he  found  himself  on 

256 


18 


O      ft*      t*      tQ 

t  ^  **  a 


Wild  Flowers  Haunts  and  the  Seekers  of  Them 

the  brink  of  a  still  greater  ravine.  Here  he  chanced, 
almost  at  once,  on  what  we  know  as  Triphammer 
Falls,  and,  peering  eagerly  along  the  gorge  sides, 
discovered,  to  his  joy,  the  anxiously  sought  leaf. 
But  where  was  the  captive  maiden? 

Nowhere  on  this  side  of  the  gorge  was  any 
hiding  place  that  he  could  discover.  Was  she  on 
the  other  side?  He  shouted,  "Mary  Vrooman! 
Mary  Vrooman!"  Then  the  bushes  on  the  opposite 
cliff  parted  near  the  bottom  of  the  gorge,  and  a 
girl's  face  appeared.  It  was  a  lover's  haste  and 
fortune  that  made  the  difficult  crossing  at  this 
point  safe,  and  almost  in  a  moment  Mary  was  pour- 
ing her  story  into  Herman's  willing  ears.  It  had 
all  turned  out  as  she  had  planned,  and  the  little 
pink  primrose  had  played  its  part  well. 

As  the  summer  grows,  the  flowers  of  the  valleys 
become  somewhat  rank,  and  then  one  seeks  the 
hills  where  the  breezes  seldom  cease.  Here  are 
great  meadows,  decked  in  Queen  Anne's  lace,  more 
commonly  called  wild  carrot,  but  none  the  less 
beautiful,  however  termed.  The  summits  them- 
selves give  an  outlook  over  the  green  checkered 
fields  of  the  long  valley  slopes,  and  one  sees  far 
away,  the  blue  turquoise  of  Cayuga  water. 

Then  comes  a  blank,  continuing  until  the  sum- 
mer's ending,  that  is,  vacation  time,  and,  when 
Cornellians  return,  the  country  has  donned  the 
glorious  panoply  of  Autimm,  garments  gay  with 
yellows  and  reds.     All  too  soon  this  fades  away, 

259 


At  Cornell 


and  then  comes  winter  to  hide  under  a  snow  cover, 
our  erstwhile  wild  flower  gardens.  Only  the  graceful 
tall  goldenrods,  boneset  and  joe-pye-weeds,  still 
wave  brown  plumes  on  long,  slender  stems,  decked 
though  they  be,  in  winter  caps.  And  with  their 
beauty  of  form,  we  must  content  ourselves,  until 
Spring  once  more  paints  the  landscape  in  color. 


JLift  (6olhtn  fio&B  firrfcrd  ntitlf  i^natti 
260 


g^tubrat  ICtf^  nf  iEu^rgiag 


^^Jt|'HEN  one  comes  to  think  it  over,  one  realizes 
Idjl  "that  it  is  the  routine  of  everyday,  and  the 
trivial  incidents  which  vary  it,  that  constitute 
actual  student  life  at  Cornell.  A  stunt  book  may 
be  cumbered  with  programs  and  Spring  Day 
souvenirs,  yet  such  mementos,  are  only  representa- 
tive of  episodes.  They  do  not  tell  of  the  hum-drum 
making  of  eight-o 'clocks,  of  the  times  sent  up  to 
the  board  or  called  on  for  recitation  in  the  class 
room  quizzes,  or  of  the  evenings  spent  with  the 
fellows  in  the  house  or  downtown,  or  of  the  after- 
noons on  the  field.  There  is  need  of  some  other 
device  than  the  stunt  book,  if  we  would  carry  away 
tangible  records  of  this  real,  intimate  life  of  the 
school. 

Yet — when  one  does  stop  to  consider,  it  is  not 
so  hum-drum  after  all.  Probably  there  are  more 
little  excitements  and  experiences  scattered  through 
University,  undergraduate  existence  than  one  will 
meet  in  any  of  the  common  walks  of  life  wherein 
the  student  may  find  himself  in  after  years.  The 
undergraduate's  days  slip  along,  so  full  of  variety, 


263 


At  Cornell 

that  he  scarcely  notes  their  passing.  Not  one  of 
them  is  just  Hke  that  preceding;  and  in  that  fact, 
perhaps,  is  the  charm  of  college  life. 

This  life  at  Cornell  begins  with  the  moment 
that  the  freshman  alights  from  his  train  at  Ithaca. 
In  waiting  at  the  station,  is  a  buzzing  crowd  of 
classmen,  and  his  greeting  comes  either  from  the 
members  of  the  particular  fraternities  to  whom  he 
has  been  recommended,  or  from  home  friends,  or, 
if  he  comes  a  stranger,  all  unknown,  he  is  seized 
upon  by  the  room  agency  solicitors  and  hustled 
away  up  the  hill,  to  be  piloted  through  vacant  room 
after  room,  until,  in  confusion  and  sheer  despera- 
tion, he  finally  selects  one,  more  on  the  basis  of 
chance  than  design.  In  another  year,  he  will  look 
with  more  care  after  closet  room,  outlook,  heating 
arrangement,  and  most  of  all,  inquire  about  the 
character  of  the  landlady — but  all  that  needs  the 
wisdom  of  experience.  It  must  be  confessed  that 
the  rooms  which  the  room  agency  man  shows  the 
freshman  do  not  afford  much  in  choice,  both  as  to 
convenience  and  management.  There  are  good 
rooms  and  good  landladies,  but  these  seldom  fall 
to  the  lot  of  the  stranger  freshman,  for  obvious 
reasons. 

Thus  the  freshman  probably  finds  himself  under 
a  roof  which  also  shelters  a  number  of  other  fresh- 
men in  the  same  plight  as  himself.  Say  that  it  is 
due  to  a  like  misery,  if  you  will;  at  any  rate,  they 
soon  find  each  other  company,  and  discover  com- 

264 


Student  Life  of  Everyday 


:^^')^j^^^^^.:.  Wx^ 

■fe^ .  fmm^ 

Tmjsm 

*tWfl% 

A  (damttua  Btata 

mon  interests.  As  an  accompaniment  to  these 
newly  made  friendships,  rough-housing  soon  begins, 
tusshng  and  wresthng  in  the  rooms,  singing  of 
Cornell  songs  until  all  hours  of  the  night.  These 
happy  times  often  end  in  the  middle  of  the  first  term, 
with  the  expulsion  by  the  landlady  of  the  whole 
crowd  from  her  house.  Such  expulsion  is  generally 
not  such  a  calamity  as  it  might  seem,  for,  although 
there  is  seldom  a  contract  to  that  effect,  custom 
(as  interpreted  by  the  landladies,  it  is  law),  binds 
the  student  to  keep  for  the  year  the  room  he  engages 
at  the  beginning  of  the  fall  term.  In  other  words, 
it  is  a  lease  which  may  be  terminated  without  notice 
by  the   landlady,   but   is   binding  on  the  student. 


265 


At  Cornell 

Moreover,  Ithaca  justice  has  such  strange  kinks, 
that  even  an  upperclassman  would  shrink  from 
a  legal  conflict  with  native  Ithaca.  Therefore,  an 
expulsion  is  often  a  blessing  in  disguise,  for  it  means 
that  the  freshman  may  seek  more  congenial  quarters. 
And  very  often  the  rough-housing  is  simply  an 
expression  of  the  student's  distaste  and  chafing  at 
his  environment.  When  the  landlady  does  not  keep 
the  rooms  clean,  when  the  heat  is  lacking,  both  in 
quantity  and  uniformity,  when  he  finds  that  he  is 
overpaying — what  redress  has  the  student? 

Cornell  needs  dormitories  for  the  men  students. 
The  first  good  these  would  confer  would  be  this 
relief  from  the  exactions  of  the  owners  and  managers 
of  private  rooming  houses.  One  of  these  owners, 
a  woman,  naively  met  a  complaint  about  rather 
exhorbitant  charges — for  Ithaca  even — by  saying 
that  "she  had  a  debt  on  this  house  and  intended  to 
get  it  paid  off  as  soon  as  possible."  Then  again, 
the  landladies,  in  general,  are  anything  but  self- 
effacing  servants — they  have  a  most  interesting  class 
of  roomers,  and,  in  consequence,  their  curiosity  leads 
them  to  intrude,  often  and  long,  when  the  broadest 
hints  will  often  not  suffice  to  terminate  their  visits. 
Moreover,  dormitories  would  promote  good-fellowship 
and  acquaintance  among  men  who  are  not  in  frater- 
nities. That  this  would  follow,  is  evidenced  by  the 
fact  that  even  the  comparatively  small  number  of 
fellows  in  a  rooming  house,  thrown  together  by 
chance  as  they  are,   almost  always  find  common 

266 


Student  Life  of  Everyday 

interests  and  form  friendships.  In  the  wider  sphere 
of  dormitory  Hfe,  the  good  quahties  of  many  men 
would  win  for  them  a  much  broader  acquaintance 
and  closer  friends  than  is  possible  under  present 
conditions,  simply  by  bringing  each  student  in  con- 
tact with  more  men,  and  thus  affording  congenial 
spirits  the  possibility  of  finding  each  other  out. 
Only  a  very  small  fraction  of  the  student  body  can 
possibly  be  elected  to  fraternities,  numerous  though 
these  are,  because  of  the  limitation  in  the  possible 
number  of  members. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  freshmen  who  are  met 
at  the  train  by  the  fraternity  delegates,  are,  in  most 
cases,  spared  this  contact  with  rooming  house 
keepers,  since  they  are  very  shortly  housed  in  the 
chapter  homes.  Nevertheless,  the  tendency  toward 
class  distinction,  which  the  fraternities  promote,  is 
to  be  deplored,  both  for  the  sake  of  their  members, 
and  the  great  majority  of  students  who  are  not 
affiliated  with  them.  Admitting,  for  the  moment, 
something  which  may  be  far  from  true,  that  the 
fraternities  get  the  best  men,  the  result  of  this  is 
that  these  'best '  fraternity  men  never  get  the  point 
of  view  of  the  majority,  and  are  out  of  sympathy 
with  its  ideals  and  ambitions.  The  majority  again, 
are  deprived  of  the  stimulus  which  would  come  by 
contact  with  fellows  who,  by  reason  of  birth,  wealth, 
social  accomplishments  or  athletic  prowess,  have 
some  distinction.  There  are  sharp  enough  lines 
drawn  afterwards,  in  the  social  world;  here  at  school 

267 


At  Cornell 

the  acquaintance  of  man  with  man,  regardless  of 
his  pedigree,  social  position,  and  wealth,  would  be 
saner,  and  encourage  a  better  and  greater  solidarity 
of  Cornell  spirit. 

As  it  is,  the  social  functions  of  the  University, 
occuring  in  Junior  week  and  Senior  week,  are  almost 
exclusively  in  the  control  of  the  fraternities.  The 
non-fraternity   student,    in   fact,    has   no    place   to 


A  (ftlimpBf  of  (ftolltmin  ^miti;  ffiaih 
268 


S  =      =  i!   = 

o  S  S  -S   o 

ih  o  «  S  t; 

g^^S  s  ft 

«<  B  «  o 


At  Cornell 

entertain  guests.  There  is  a  growing  opposition  to 
this  state  of  affairs,  which  is  manifesting  itself  in 
the  formation  of  numerous  clubs  and  even  Greek 
letter  fraternities,  which  have,  at  present,  no  national 
existence.  This  movement  is  viewed  with  disfavor 
by  the  older  fraternities,  as  it  seems  to  them  to 
detract  from  their  former  prestige.  Yet  many 
fellows  outside  the  fraternities  are  able  financially, 
and  are  accustomed  to  entertain,  and  are,  in  this 
manner,  demanding  a  place  in  the  social  functions 
of  the  University  which,  independently,  they  could 
not  do.  It  must  not  be  inferred  that  the  fraternities 
are  narrow  and  extremely  exclusive;  even  the 
tradition  that  a  man  who  has  waited  table  can 
never  make  a  fraternity,  does  not  hold,  for  several 
such  men  have  been  elected  in  recent  years  to  good 
societies. 

There  are,  of  course,  impossible  people  in  col- 
lege, as  elsewhere,  yet  dormitories  would  undoubt- 
edly promote  Cornell  spirit  and  make  better  all 
round  men  than  the  present  system  can  produce. 
There  would  still  be  fraternities,  but  with  their 
membership  limited  to  the  three  upper  classes. 

Among  the  classmen  of  the  professional  colleges 
of  the  University,  that  is  the  colleges  of  engineering, 
law,  medicine,  architecture,  agriculture  and  chem- 
istry, a  certain  acquaintance  and  fellowship  develops, 
irrespective  of  fraternity  lines,  due  to  the  fact  that 
all  these  follow  a  prescribed  course,  and  therefore 
meet  each  other  throughout  the  four  years  of  their 

270 


Student  Life  of  Everyday 

University  career,  in  the  classes  of  the  subjects 
which  they  must  all  study.  This  opportunity  for 
getting  acquainted  is,  however,  denied  the  men  in 
the  college  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  where  the  courses 
elected  are  almost  wholly  optional  with  the  students, 
from  year  to  year.  Consequently,  a  student  in  the 
Arts  college  meets  with  a  new  group  in  each  course 
he  enters,  moreover,  each  course  may  be  composed 
of  students  from  all  the  four  classes.  And,  perhaps, 
it  is  this  absolute  lack  of  continued  contact  among 
Arts  men  which  accounts  for  the  comparative  weak- 
ness of  their  college  in  the  University.  The  existence 
of  many  societies,  such  as  the  English  club,  Jugatae, 
Deutcher  Verein,  and  the  like,  composed  of  groups 
of  Arts  students  who  have  common  interests,  is 
evidence  that  the  need  is  felt;  and  that  the  under- 
graduates are  making  an  effort  to  become  acquainted 
with  those  who-  are  working  along  similar  lines. 
Membership  in  most  of  these  is  purely  voluntary, 
and  eligibility  depends  on  a  subject  knowledge  of, 
or  interest  in,  the  society's  specific  field.  At  this 
point  also,  may  be  mentioned  the  class  honorary 
societies.  Sphinx  Head,  Quill  and  Dagger,  Aleph 
Samach  and  Dunstan,  the  first  two  being  senior, 
and  the  latter,  respectively,  junior  and  sophomore 
societies.  Membership  in  these  is  elective,  and 
eligibility  is  based  on  achievement  in  college  activi- 
ties. There  are,  besides  these,  many  other  social 
organizations  whose  members  meet  more  or  less  regu- 
larly, to  smoke,  to  play  cards,  to  read,  and  what  not. 

271 


At  Cornell 


lEtxtxanct  ta  ti|e  Urt^nnarg  (Holler 

The  boarding  houses  and  restaurants,  which 
latter  are  known  as  "dog  wagons,"  are  meeting 
places  wherein  many  non-fraternity  students  make 
friends,  and  enlarge  their  acquaintance  circle  in  the 
University,  and,  if  these  dining  halls  were  not  so 
uniformly  cheerless  and  depressing,  they  would 
afford  a  large  measure  of  the  relief  one  looks  for 
from  the  dormitory  plan.  But  as  a  great  number 
of  these  dining  rooms  are  the  basements  of  houses, 
it  requires  little  imagination  to  conceive  what 
gloomy,  damp  and  stuffy  places  they  are.  Yet  a 
plan  to  be  recommended  for  its  value  in  becoming 
acquainted,  and  also  because  it  secures  for  the 
student  a  greater  variety  of  fare,  is  to  change  board- 
ing houses  every  month  or  six  weeks.    This  scheme 


272 


Student  Life  of  Everyday 

practically  secured  the  election  of  one  man  to  one 
of  the  best  offices  in  the  gift  of  his  class. 

Even  the  student  who  is  following  a  prescribed 
course  has  a  schedule  of  classes,  which  differ,  in 
some  detail  at  least,  with  that  of  every  other  fellow 
who  is  doing  the  same  work.  This  is  because  the 
number  registered  for  almost  every  course  is  so 
large  as  to  necessitate  the  class  being  subdivided 
into  many  sections,  meeting  at  different  hours. 
Then,  if  a  student  is  pursuing  five  or  six  studies, 
the  number  of  permutations  and  combinations  of 
these  sections  that  can  be  made  is  great,  and  there- 
fore the  schedules  vary  in  almost  every  case.  In 
Arts,  where  the  courses  are  wholly  elective,  no  two 
schedules  are  alike  except  by  design.  The  first 
great  desideratum  in  arranging  a  schedule  in  any 
college  of  the  University,  is  to  avoid  "  eight  o'clocks," 
that  is,  classes  which  meet  at  eight  in  the  morning. 
The  second  is  to  keep  as  many  afternoons  as  possible 
free,  especially  Saturday  afternoon,  because  of  the 
games.  In  consequence  of  this,  the  tardy  ones  on 
registration  day,  get  more  than  their  quota  of  these 
undesirable  hours,  as  a  waiting  line  forms  on  such 
occasions,  which  often  extends  over  the  length  of 
a  city  block. 

Evenings  are  supposed  to  be  spent  in  study, 
but  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  wonderful  what  a  small 
portion  of  time  will  suffice  this  purpose  with  many 
men,  and  yet  enable  them  to  get  a  mark  of  sixty 
or  more.     Cards,  occasional  feeds,  and  the  theatre, 

i»  273 


At  Cornell 

help  to  while  away  the  time.  Ithaca,  though  claim- 
ing only  fifteen  thousand  inhabitants,  is  rated  by 
theatrical  managers  as  a  one  hundred  thousand 
town.  The  students,  therefore,  make  the  theatre 
possible,  and  accordingly  they  feel  that  they  have 
the  ancient  Roman  privilege  of  showing  clenched 
fists  and  hidden  thumbs  to  any  players  who  fail 
to  gain  their  approval;  only  the  "thumbing"  often 
takes  the  form  of  a  rough  house  of  such  proportions 
that  it  is  impossible  for  the  actors  to  proceed.  The 
sprinkling  of  native  Ithacans,  who  occupy  seats  at 
the  theatre,  resent  this  in  the  extreme,  and  numer- 
ous arrests  are  often  a  resultant  of  these  student 
picnics.  While  it  is  difficult  to  defend  mob  rule, 
it  would  seem  that  this  unruly  spirit,  on  part  of 
the  students,  is  fostered  by  the  attitude  of  the 
Ithaca  police  court,  which  imposes  preposterously 
large  fines  on  students,  for  very  trivial  offenses, 
whereas  others  escape  with  only  a  nominal  punish- 
ment. The  principle  being,  that  students  have 
money  and  can  pay.  It  is  said  that  an  Ithaca 
lawyer,  writing  for  a  local  paper,  on  the  subject  of 
the  town's  finances,  stated  that  the  revenue  from 
fines,  collected  mostly  from  students,  was  practically 
sufficient  to  pay  the  running  expenses  of  the  court 
and  the  police  force,  and  admitted  that  it  was  a 
shameful  extortion.  Probably  this  statement  was 
no  great  exaggeration,  for  a  characteristic  fine  would 
be  the  assessing  of  a  student  twenty-five  dollars  and 
costs  for  pitching  a  penny  onto  the  stage  at  the 

274 


©Iff  Etbrarg  Blape  —  Ewtttng 


Student  Life  of  Everyday 

Lyceum,  in  derision  of  the  play  or  the  acting.  In 
a  news  report  which  has  just  come  to  my  notice, 
a  native  Ithacan,  "plain  drunk,"  had  his  sentence 
suspended,  while  a  "singing"  student  was  fined 
thirty  dollars. 

Student  activities,  is  a  comprehensive  phrase, 
which  is  in  a  sense  descriptive  of  the  major  interests 
of  college  life — to  many  Cornell  students.  If  a  man 
is  not  physically  qualified  for  winning  atheltic  dis- 
tinction, he  enters  into  competition  for  college 
honors,  membership  in  the  elective  clubs,  the  class 
honorary  societies,  all  of  which  are  to  be  achieved, 
in  part,  by  success  in  securing  a  managership  or 
assistant  managership  for  some  athletic  or  other 
organization.  The  competitions  for  the  position  of 
assistant  manager,  "ass-managers,"  as  they  are 
popularly  known,  is  only  less  strenuous  than  the 
pursuit  of  athletic  distinction.  The  fraternities  more 
or  less  require  their  sophomore  members,  who  have 
not  given  promise  of  distinction  along  other  lines, 
"to  come  out,"  as  the  phrase  is,  for  these  "ass- 
managerships."  The  menial  character  of  the  tasks 
which  these  candidates  must  perform,  and  do  per- 
form, is  really  surprising.  Thus  they  must  often, 
late  at  night,  and  in  freezing  weather,  chalk  notices 
on  all  the  campus  walks,  announcing  games,  meet- 
ings and  performances.  They  roll  the  tracks  for 
the  runners,  and  retrieve  from  the  mud,  the  hammer 
and  the  shot,  hurled  by  the  field  men  at  practice. 
At  the  club  house  they  are  handy  with  shoestrings 

277 


At  Cornell 

and  the  like.  No  doubt  the  training  they  get,  in 
such  a  school,  is  of  great  value,  but  it  certainly  is 
a  strenuous  life. 

Of  course  the  man  with  musical  ability  tries 
for  the  Glee  club,  or  the  Mandolin  and  Guitar  clubs, 
in  both  which  aggregations  the  Cornell  organization 
ranks  preeminent  among  the  colleges  of  the  East. 
These  clubs  make  "Christmas  trips"  each  year, 
visiting  a  number  of  large  cities,  and  enjoying  royal 
entertainment  by  enthusiastic  alumni  and  friends 
The  same  is  true  of  the  Masque,  the  dramatic  club, 
in  recent  years.  Membership  in  all  these  again,  is 
dependent  on  competition  and  election. 

Then  there  are  the  editorial  boards  and  business 
managerships  of  the  Sun,  the  University  daily, 
morning  paper;  the  Widow,  the  bi-monthly  comic 
magazine ;  as  well  as  of  the  Era,  the  literary  monthly, 
to  be  competed  for.  The  successful  candidates  are 
those  who,  in  addition  to  doing  the  regular  work 
divided  among  all  the  competitors  for  any  one 
publication,  tasks  assigned  by  the  board  in  office, 
bring  in  the  greatest  quantity,  and  best  quality  of 
acceptable  material  for  the  publication,  or  the  great- 
est amount  of  new  advertising. 

In  the  past  each  class  has  supported  a  debating 
club;  and  in  addition,  there  is  a  mock  Congress,  with 
a  speaker  and  members  from  various  districts,  as  in 
the  national  body.  But  debate  is  in  distinctly  less 
favor  since  the  era  of  athleticism  and  business  enter- 
prises.   The  reason  being  that  the  rewards,  neither 

278 


CORNELL     UNIVERSITY 
WEEKLY    CALENDAR 


Annual  Subscription  One  Dollar 


Published  by  Cornell  University 


No.  24— Saturday.  February  6,  1 909 


SUNDAY,  February  7 


SAGE  CHAPEI^— Thb  Rev.  Hugh  Black.  MA     Presbyterian.     Union  Thcolopcal  Seminary,  New  York  City.    Morning  ser- 
vice at  II  o'clock.     Vtsper  service  at  3:15  o'clock. 


MONDAY,  February  8 


ARTS  AND  SCIENCE  LECTURE— "Reconstruction  of  Theology."  by  the  Rev.  Hugh  Bt^cK  of  the  Union  Theological  Sem- 
inary, New  York  City.     Coldwin  Snuih  Hall,  Room  B,  5  p.  M. 


TUESDAY,  February  9 


SANITARY  SCIENCE  AND  PUBLIC  HEALTH— "Food  Adulterations  and  Their  Detection."  lecture  by  E.  M.  ChamoT. 
Professor  of  Saniury  Chemistry,  Cornell  University.     Af one  Nail,  Room  i,  la  m. 

ARTS  AND  SCIENCE  LECTURE— "Reconstruction  of  Theology,"  by  the  Rev,  Hugh  Black  of  the  Union  Theological  Sem- 
inary, New  York  City.     Goldwtn  Smith  Hall,  Room  B,  5  p.  h. 

BIOLOGICAL  SOCIETY— Meeting.  "Review  of  Physical  Expression,"  by  Mr.  W  A.  Hilton.  McGraw  Hall,  Room  9,  North 
Entrance,  8  P    M. 


WEDNESDAY,  February  10 


ARTS  AND  SCIENCE  LECTURE— "Reconstruction  of  Theology,"  by  the  Rev.  Hugh  Black  of  the  Union  Theological  Sem. 

inary,  New  York  City.     Cotdwin  Smilk  Hall,  Room  B,  5  p.  M. 
BARNES  HALL— Mid-week  meeting  Y.  W.  C.  A,,  Trophy  Room,  7  p.  M. 
Mid-week  meeting  C.  U.  C.  A.,  Wtst  Dome,  7:15  p.  M. 
CLASSICAL  AND  HISTORY  CLUBS— Joint  meeting.     Address  by  Professor  C.  E.  Bennett,  "An  Ancient  Schoolmaster's 

Message  to  Present-Day  Teachers".     Open  to  teachers  and  prospective  teachers.     Coldwin  Smith  Hall,  Room  tj4,  8  p.  u. 


THURSDAY,  February  11 


SANITARY  SCIENCE  AND  PUBLIC  HEALTH— "Effect  of  Dairy  Processes  on  Pathogenic  Bacteria  and  Their  Transmission 
to  Human  Beings,"  lecture  by  W.  A.  Stocking,  Professor  of  Dairy  Bacteriology,  Cornell  University.  Coldwin  Smttk  Hall, 
Room  A,  It  H. 


ARTS  AND  SCIENCE  LECTURE— "Reconstruction  of  Theology,"  by  the  Rev.  Hi 

inary,  New  York  City.     Goldwin  Smith  Hall,  Room  B,  5  P.  M, 
ARTS  AND  SCIENCE  LECTURE— "The  Young  Goethe   as   the    Author  of  the   Original    Fi 

KuEHNBUAHK  of  the  University  of  Breslau,  Germany.     Coldwin  Smith  Hall,  Room  B,S  P.  n 


Black  of  the  Union  Theological  Sem- 
by  Professor  Cugbnb 


FRIDAY,  February  12 


ONE  HUNDREDTH  ANNIVERSARY  OF  THE  BIRTH  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN— All  University  exercises  anspended 
between  the  hours  of  13  and  1.  Address  by  the  Honorable  Frank  S.  Black  of  New  York  City,  former  Governor  of  the 
State  of  New  York.     Armory,  12  m. 

UNIVERSITY  FACULTY-Meeting,    Boardman  Hall,  Room  C,  4  p.  m. 

ARTS  AND  SCIENCE  LECTURE— "Reconstruction  of  Theology,"  by  the  Rev.  Hugh  Black  of  the  Union  Theological  Sem 
inary.  New  York  City.     Coldwin  Smith  Hall,  Room  B,  5  P.  M. 

AGASSIZ  CLUB— Meeting.  "Adaptation  for  Aquatic  Respiration  in  Insects,"  talk  by  Mr.  J.  T.  Llovd.  All  interested  are  cor- 
dially invited.     McGraw  Hall,  Geological  Lecture  Room,  7:30  P.  m. 


SUNDAY,  February  14 


SAGE  CHAPEL— The  Rbv.  Hugh  Black,  M  A     Presbytei 
vice  at   11  o'clock.      Vesper  service  at  3:15  o'clock. 


\  Theological  Seminary,  New  York  City. 


VESPER  SERVICE 
The  following  i*  Ihe  muftical  progrmtn  W  be  i:i 
io  Sa^  Clupcl  on  Sunday,  February  7,  at  315 
Prelude— '-Canii1rn«-- 
How  lovely  arc  Thy  dwclljags  fair 


e  Veiper  Service 


Hyn. 


-603 


Respoww— Ave  Vem 


r  Lord  the  Raler  ii 


CONSULTATION   HOURS   BY   THE  REV. 


;  BLACK 


I  both 


fhe  Rev.  Hugh  Black  will  occupy  the  Sage  Cbapcl  pulpit 
wry  7tb  asd  February  14th  During  the  iutcTTCsing  week  he  will 
a  IB  Ithaca  and  will  be  at  Barnn  Hall  from  I3  to  1  daily  for  consul- 
I  with  any  students  who  may  dtnre  to  speak  with  him. 


k  *Mk ;  they   (taMM  b 


A  Mttk  tn  tijp  3ltiitiprattH  ffiaUttbar 


At  Cornell 

in  fame  or  gain,  are  so  great  as  in  the  other  activi- 
ties, moreover,  the  work  is  distinctly  intellectual. 
This  latter  reason  may  also  be  assigned  to  explain 
the  small  interest  displayed  in  the  prizes  offered  by 
the  University,  both  in  oratory,  and  for  literary 
essays.  To  excel,  where  the  student  body  itself 
frames  the  conditions  and  awards  the  prizes,  is  the 
goal  of  the  honor  seeker's  ambition. 

It  would  require  much  space,  to  enumerate 
even,  all  the  ram ifact ions  of  the  aggregate  of  student 
activities.  What  it  may  mean  in  the  life  of  individ- 
uals is  perhaps  best  illustrated  by  the  following 
"statistics"  of  the  two  candidates  for  the  presidency 
of  a  recent  senior  class,  as  published  in  the  "Sim" 
before  the  election: 

:    Course  in  Arts;  Delta  Upsilon 

Phi   Beta    Kappa;    Sphinx    Head;   Aleph   Samach 
Scalp  and   Blade;  freshman  crew;  class  crew   (2) 
class  football  team  (2);  '94  Debate  Stage  (2),  (3) 
Intercollegiate  debate  team  (2) ,  (3) ;  Junior  Varsity 
crew  (2) ;  Varsity  four-oared  (2) ;  class  crew  director 
(3) ;    vice-president    debate    council    (3) ;    Moakley 
house  fund  committee  (3) ;  general  committee  (3) ; 
chairman  Junior  smoker  committee  (3);  president 
debate  council  (4) ;  secretary  intercollegiate  debate 
league  (4). 

:     Entered    with    the    class    of 

1909,  from  .     His  statistics  are  as  follows: 

Course  in  Arts;  Kappa  Alpha;  Quill  and  Dagger; 
Aleph   Samach;    Nalanda;    Book   and    Bowl;    vice- 

280 


Student  Life  of  Everyday 

president  C.  U.  C.  A.  (2);  Glee  club  (1);  Sun  board 
(1),  (2) ;  managing  editor  Sun  (3) ;  editor-in-chief  (4) ; 
class  treasurer  (2) ;  class  president  (3) ;  '86  Memorial 
Oratorical  Stage  (3) ;  Sophomore  banquet  committee 

(2). 

Perhaps  it  is  the  school  of  student  activities, 
or  definitely,  its  demands  on  the  individual's  time, 
that  develops  the  marked  inventive  genius  which 
the  student  body  in  general  evidences  in  its  num- 
berless petitions  to  the  faculty;  petitions  which,  as 
a  rule,  ask  that  the  petitioner  may  be  permitted 
to  evade  some  University  requirement ;  that  he  may 
be  allowed  to  omit  this,  or  substitute  that  course, 
or  what  not,  and  always  with  the  most  plausible, 
and  often  original  reasons,  for  its  favorable  con- 
sideration, appended.  All  these  petitions  come  to 
the  registrar,  David  F.  Hoy,  familiarly,  "Davy," 
for  approval  and  his  signature  before  they  go  to 
the  faculty.  The  reaction  resultant  from  all  this 
creative  genius  on  part  of  the  student,  is  found  in 
the  preternatural  shrewdness  of  Mr.  Hoy  in  fathom- 
ing the  motives  which  underlie  the  requests,  and  in 
discovering  "the  nigger  in  the  woodpile."  That 
shrewdness  is  Davy's  first  characteristic,  his  second 
is  an  ability  to  emphatically  refuse  to  endorse  most 
of  these  plausible  schemes.  Thus  Davy  has  come 
to  be  the  natural  enemy,  the  bete  noir  of  the  under- 
graduate, and  they  invest  him  with  all  the  panoply 
of  power  over  student  affairs.  This  feeling  is  accentu- 
ated by  the  fact  that  Davy  passes  on  the  sufficiency 

281 


At  Cornell 

of  entrance  credits.  Moreover,  his  daily  skirmishes 
with  the  students  have  not  made  him  a  soft  man- 
nered official  and,  in  consequence,  much  of  Cornell 
legend  concerns  itself  with  Davy's  famous  retorts 
courteous.  Perhaps  the  most  staple  of  these  is  the 
story  of  the  co-ed,  somewhat  advanced  in  years, 
who  interviewed  him  on  the  event  of  her  entrance 
into  Cornell.  It  seems  that  she  asked  question  after 
question,  all  of  which  he  patiently  and  dogmatically 
answered,  until  finally  she  had  exhausted  her  list. 
Then,  cheerfully,  she  concluded,  "Well,  Mr.  Hoy, 
I  thank  you  very  much;  now  is  there  perhaps, 
something  more  I  ought  to  know,  that  you  can 
suggest?"  "Yes,  madam,  there  is;  you  ought  to 
learn  to  read,  and  here  is  a  copy  of  the  current 
register  of  the  University." 

On  another  occasion  a  woman  graduate,  who 
possessed  a  mien  which  bespoke  determination,  was 
making  the  rounds  of  the  professors  with  whom  she 
wished  to  do  graduate  work;  and  one  of  the  pro- 
fessors called  up  Mr.  Hoy  on  the  telephone,  and 
asked  whether  she  should  be  given  credit  for  certain 
work  done  elsewhere.  Hoy  immediately  queried, 
"Who  is  it?"  and  then,  on.  hearing  her  name, 
replied,  "Give  her  anything  she  wants;  she'll  get 
it  an3rway."  When  another  student  was  refused 
part  credit  for  work  done  in  a  certain  institution, 
and  thereupon  protested  vigorously  saying,  "he 
didn't  see  why  he  should  not  get  full  credit  for  all 
his  work,"  Hoy  demanded,  "Did  you  expect  us  to 

282 


—  » 


m  I 


i^ 


Student  Life  of  Everyday 

meet  you  at  the  station  with  a  brass  band  when 
you  came  to  Cornell?" 

The  entrance  requirements  in  English  are  very 
rigorously  insisted  upon  at  Cornell  and,  knowing 
this,  one  can  readily  figure  that  student's  chances 
who  wrote  the  registrar  as  follows:  "  Dear  Mr.  Hoy, 
I  am  sorry  to  inform  you  that  I  have  flunked  on 
my  entrance  trig,  and  history,  but  I  aint  so  bad  on 

English ."      Another,    a    girl    again,    wrote    to 

know  "what  was  the  official  costume  of  the  Sage 
Gym.  girls?" 

Term  examinations  at  Cornell  come  in  what  is 
known  as  "block  week,"  a  period  of  some  ten  days, 
at  the  end  of  January  and  in  the  first  part  of  June, 
and  those  are  times  when  probably  more  "grinding" 
is  done  than  in  all  the  rest  of  the  term.  Then,  if  a 
student  fails  to  "pass  up"  the  minimum  number  of 
hours,  the  registrar  sends  him  a  "bust  notice;"  a 
request  to  depart  from  the  University's  halls  of 
learning,  and  the  city,  within  five  days;  and  he 
must  remain  absent  for  a  term  before  he  is  permitted 
to  return.  If  this  happens  several  times  in  his 
career,  he  may  be  permanently  excluded.  Therefore, 
they  are  anxious  times,  those  days  immediately 
following  the  close  of  the  examinations,  for  many 
then  sit  in  trembling,  relieved  when  any  mail  delivery 
fails  to  bring  the  fateful  message. 

The  period  of  suspense,  however,  which  marks 
the  climax  of  anxiety  in  a  University  career,  for 
probably  the  majority  of  students,   is  the  waiting 

285 


At  Cornell 

for  one's  name  to  be  "scratched"  at  the  end  of  the 
senior  year.  Some  days  before  the  end  of  the  last 
examination  period  a  list  of  all  those  who  can  pos- 
sibly be  graduated  is  posted  in  the  hallway  outside 
the  registrar's  office,  and  there  the  anxious  seniors 
foregather,  almost  hourly,  to  see  if  their  names 
have  been  "scratched."  When  a  name  is  crossed 
out  or  "scratched"  on  this  list,  it  means  that  he  or 
she  has  fulfilled  all  the  requirements  for  graduation, 
and  thereafter  the  world  knows  no  cares  until  com- 
mencement days  are  over,  and  the  ushering  into 
the  coldly-greeting  world  occurs. 


iSiift  (Srabuation  l^ratseBian 


286 


®If^  linrkmg  S>tu6^nt  at  Olnrn^U 


(FIj^  Working  ^tuin^nt  at  Olnrn^U 


m 


^  I  HERE  is,  perhaps,  no  other  University  which 
ti  affords  the  working  student  so  many  oppor- 
tunities for  winning  his  way,  as  does  Cornell. 
And,  while  only  a  few  men  succeed  in  paying  all 
the  expenses  of  a  four-year  course,  by  the  activities 
carried  on  while  in  school,  quite  a  few  do  accomplish 
this  by  supplementing  their  earnings  during  term 
time  with  the  proceeds  from  work  done  in  the 
summer  vacations.  As  the  University  calendar  is 
now  arranged,  Cornell  summer  vacations  are  longer 
than  those  scheduled  by  the  other  large  institutions 
of  the  country,  a  fact  which  is  often  of  importance 
in  securing  employment  in  the  beginning  of  the 
summer,  before  the  competition  becomes  strenuous, 
and  again,  in  enabling  the  acceptance  of  many 
positions  where  the  work  continues  until  late  in 
September.  Thus,  for  example,  in  the  coming  year, 
instruction  does  not  begin  at  Cornell  until  October 
the  first;  and  most  undergraduates  find  it  possible 
to  leave  before  June  the  tenth,  and  accordingly 
are  afforded  almost  sixteen  weeks  free  from  school 
duties. 

»<»  289 


At  Cornell 

In  the  smaller  institutions  of  collegiate  rank, 
there  is  little  opportunity  for  self  help.  Such  col- 
leges are  located,  as  a  rule,  in  small  communities, 
whose  business  enterprises  themselves  are  in  many 
cases,  in  large  part  dependent  on  the  custom  of  the 
students  and  of  the  institution.  Moreover,  the 
majority  of  their  students  are  drawn  from  the 
immediate  locality  in  which  the  institution  is  located, 
and  in  general  from  families  whose  fortunes  are 
not  great.  The  institution  being  small,  its  adminis- 
tration is  not  complex,  and  consequently  is  carried 
on  almost  wholly  by  its  regularly  employed  faculty 
and  officers.  Thus,  as  neither  the  college  nor  the 
student  body  spends  much  money,  there  is  little  to 
be  earned. 


©n  a  Winttr  Afternoon 
290 


The  Working  Student  at  Cornell 

In  the  other  large  eastern  universities  the 
working  student,  on  the  other  hand,  is  at  a  much 
greater  social  disadvantage  than  at  Cornell,  and 
this  is  not  an  insignificant  factor.  For  example, 
possibly  as  large  a  number  of  students  find  employ- 
ment as  table  waiters  as  the  sum  of  all  those  engaged 
in  other  ways.  And  this  service  carries  with  it  no 
stigma.  Men  who  have  "waited  table"  are  elected 
to  class  offices,  make  fraternities,  and  commonly  are 
the  good  friends  of  those  on  whom  they  wait.  For 
such  service  they  get  their  board  free,  and  the  time 
required  is  about  twenty-five  hours  per  week.  Each 
waiter  has,  on  the  average,  twelve  men  to  serve, 
and,  as  a  rule,  these  diners  will,  because  they  are 
normal  youths  and  hungry,  or  to  accommodate  the 
waiter,  come  promptly  at  meal  times,  enabling  the 
waiter  to  do  his  work  rapidly  and  be  free. 

Akin  to  the  task  of  waiting  on  table,  in  that 
there  is  no  money  payment,  is  that  of  tending  fur- 
nace in  one  of  the  numerous  rooming  houses  on  the 
hill.  This  task  has  the  disadvantage  of  necessitating 
late  hours  at  night,  and  getting  up  early  in  the 
morning.  For  such  work  a  man  is  given  a  room 
free  of  rent,  generally,  it  is  true,  one  of  the  less 
desirable  ones  in  the  house.  One  marvels  some- 
times at  the  amount  of  work  some  fellows  can  per- 
form and  not  suffer  physically  or  mentally  from  the 
strain.  Thus  a  man  who  was  recently  graduated 
with  high  marks  and  robust  health,  from  the 
mechanical    engineering    college,    Sibley,    arose    at 

291 


At  Cornell 

about  four  in  the  morning,  replenished  the  furnace 
fires  at  his  house,  then  went  up  on  the  hill,  a  half 
mile  walk,  and  performed  some  light  janitorial 
service  in  the  class  rooms  of  his  college,  then  came 
back  to  the  boarding  house,  had  his  breakfast  and 
afterwards  waited  table,  and  then,  finally,  went  to 
his  classes.  At  noon  and  at  night  he  also  filled  his 
positions  at  the  table  and  in  caring  for  the  furnaces. 
Yet  this  man  managed  to  find  time  for,  and  see, 
most  of  the  intercollegiate  games  and  contests 
which  occurred  at  Ithaca,  and  there  again,  turned 
his  presence  to  good  account,  by  securing  a  position 
as  ticket  taker  at  the  grandstand,  which  service 
entitled  him  to  free  admission  and  a  money  pay- 
ment in  addition.  Of  course,  only  a  very  few  men 
could  carry  such  a  load  and  succeed  in  passing  up 
their  university  work,  especially  in  the  engineering 
colleges,  where  the  schedules  are  heavy  and  the 
courses  difficult. 

Nor  is  it  necessary  in  most  cases  that  they 
should.  The  great  majority  of  the  students  who 
want  work  while  at  college,  desire  simply  to  supple- 
ment their  resources,  and  a  few  dollars  saved  each 
week  means  quite  a  sum.  Thus,  free  board,  at  the 
rate  of  four  dollars  and  a  half,  represents  a  saving 
of  some  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  each  year. 
Rooms  range  in  rent  from  one  and  a  half,  to  ten 
dollars  per  week,  the  latter,  of  course,  not  available 
to  the  furnace  tender.  But  when  one  considers  that 
expenses  can  be  pared  down  to,  say  four  hundred 

292 


The  Working  Student  at  Cornell 

dollars  for  the  college  year,  the  sums  saved  in  such 
ways  are  found  to  form  no  inconsiderable  amount 
of  this  total. 

There  are  many  other  fields  for  unskilled  labor 
in  the  performance  of  a  variety  of  tasks.  Some  are 
of  an  occasional  nature,  such  as  the  care  of  the 
lawns  surrounding  professors'  cottages;  others  afford 
steady  employment.  Typical  of  these  latter,  may 
be  mentioned  the  delivery  of  packages  for  the 
various  stores  downtown.  The  pay  for  this  approxi- 
mates from  three  to  four  dollars  per  week,  and 
requires  about  two  hours  each  day,  except  Saturday, 
when  considerably  more  time  must  be  given.  Col- 
lecting accounts  comes  also  under  this  head.  It 
would  seem  that  the  greater  a  man's  allowance  is, 
the  less  money  he  has  for  the  payment  of  his  bills. 
In  consequence,  many  students  must  be  dunned 
repeatedly  before  they  will  pay,  so  that  the  collector 
for  a  firm  seldom  lacks  employment. 

One  of  the  partners  of  an  Ithaca  firm  which 
sells  student  supplies,  told  me  incidentally,  in  the 
course  of  a  conversation,  that  they  had  always  had 
a  student  in  their  employ  whose  business  it  was  to 
visit  all  the  bulletin  boards  in  the  University  build- 
ings, and  copy  the  notices  posted,  that  the  firm 
might  secure  prompt  information  as  to  material 
which  would  be  required  by  the  various  classes. 
On  my  way  up  the  hill  yesterday  a  student  stopped 
me  to  ask  when  it  would  be  convenient  for  him  to 
call  and  collect  my  telephone  bill  for  toll  service. 

293 


At  Cornell 

Duties  of  the  most  diverse  sorts  are  performed  by 
students;  everywhere  one  meets  with  a  new  phase 
of  this  kind  of  service.  Of  a  little  different  nature, 
and  perhaps  demanding  the  expenditure  of  more 
brain  energy  and  requiring  some  ability,  is  the  work 
done  by  students  who  act  as  clerks  in  the  book  and 
supply  stores,  particularly  in  the  co-operative  store, 
on  the  Campus,  familiarly  known  as  the  "Co-op." 
Every  student's  schedule  will  show  vacant  hours 
between  classes  and  these  are  profitably  employed 
behind  the  counter.  The  University  library  also 
employs  a  number  of  students  to  replace  books  in 
the  stacks,  and  similar  tasks,  which  can  be  per- 
formed at  odd  hours.  The  remuneration  is  fifteen 
cents  per  hour,  and  higher  pay  for  skilled  assistants 
who  are  at  the  desk,  evenings. 

Elsewhere,  mention  has  been  made  of  the  com- 
petitive systems  by  which  men  are  secured  to  fill 
the  various  positions  on  the  editorial  and  managing 
boards  of  the  college  publications.'  There  are  sub- 
stantial money  returns — "velvet,"  in  student  par- 
lance— for  those  who  secure  places  on  at  least  two  of 
these  papers, — the  Cornell  Daily  Sun,  and  the  Widow, 
the  comic  bi-monthly.  The  following  quotation, 
from  the  Sun,  announcing  such  a  competition  for 
freshmen,  is  typical.  It  is  preceded  by  the  statement 
that  at  a  meeting,  at  a  given  time  and  place,  con- 
ditions and  methods  of  the  work  of  collecting  and 
writing  the  news  will  be  explained.  Then:  "The 
competition  will  be  short,  lasting  but  twelve  weeks 

294  / 


(^atrxtii  llnJifrgraliiuatf  J^ubUrationa 


•  The  Working  Student  at  Cornell 

of  publication,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time,  one 
man  will  be  elected  to  the  editorial  board,  and  will 
have  every  opportunity  to  later  secure  the  positions 
of  managing  editor  and  editor-in-chief.  The  work 
is  of  the  most  interesting  character  and  for  the 
successful  competitor  the  position  on  the  Sun  board 
lasts  throughout  his  college  course." 

The  competitive  system  is  characteristic  also  of 
other  propositions,  but  has,  perhaps,  been  nowhere 
more  systematically  developed  than  by  the  ''Student 
Agencies."  Under  their  control  are  a  student  dining 
hall,  a  student  room  renting  agency,  a  student 
laundry  agency,  a  transfer  agency,  and  other  agencies 
too  numerous  to  mention.  Their  scheme  of  selection 
is  as  follows:  From  among  the  freshmen  who  apply 
for  work,  a  dozen  or  more  of  the  most  likely  are 
selected  and  given  employment  as  waiters  in  the 
dining  hall — for  which  service  they  receive  free 
board.  At  the  end  of  the  freshman  year,  two  men 
from  this  number,  are  chosen  for  dining  hall  collec- 
tors, and  these  make  the  weekly  collection  from  the 
boarders.  One  of  these  two  men  is  promoted  to  the 
position  of  head  waiter,  in  his  junior  year,  and 
becomes  manager  in  his  senior  year.  The  renum- 
eration  increases  with  the  increased  responsibilities 
and  duties  of  the  position. 

From  among  the  ranks  of  the  waiters  who 
failed  to  secure  the  collector  positions,  are  chosen 
four  who  are  transferred  to  the  laundry  agency. 
Others  are  employed  for  the  room  agency.    At  the 

297 


At  Cornell 

beginning  of  the  year,  the  duties  of  both  these 
groups  is  to  soUcit  business  from  the  incoming 
freshman  class,  and  from  the  returning  undergradu- 
ates. After  the  term  has  started,  the  most  successful 
and  promising  men  in  these  groups  are  employed  as 
collectors  for  the  laundry.  They  collect  the  bags  of 
laundry  each  Monday  morning,  and  distribute  the 
packages  at  the  end  of  the  week,  and  each  month 
collect  the  amounts  due  the  agency.  For  this  service 
they  each  receive  a  percentage  on  the  gross  amount 
of  laundry  shipped  that  week,  each  man's  earnings 
averaging  between  five  and  seven  dollars  a  week. 
By  a  process  of  elimination  again,  there  are  selected, 
from  the  collectors  of  the  sophomore  year,  the 
assistant  managers  of  the  laundry  and  the  room 
agency,  and  these  men  become  the  managers-in- 
chief  in  their  senior  year. 

This  scheme  is  comprehensive  in  its  scope,  and 
it  works  out  admirably,  I  am  told,  in  practice. 
Inexperience  in  any  business  or  employment  is  the 
keynote  of  inefficiency  of  student  labor  in  most 
cases,  and  this  plan  provides  that  there  shall  always 
be  a  trained  man  to  initiate  the  newcomers.  The 
competitors  like  it  also,  promotions  are  rapid,  if 
they  come  at  all,  and  those  who  fail  in  the  final 
competitions  have  their  eyes  opened  to  many  other 
opportunities  outside,  during  their  experience  as 
collectors,  and  need  not  lack  employment  in 
the  following  year  if  they  follow  up  promising 
openings. 

298 


9 


The  Working  Student  at  Cornell 

The  man  who  has  had  business  experience  or 
technical  training  of  some  kind  before  coming  to  the 
University  has  a  distinct  advantage.  Thus,  student 
stenographers  are  often  employed  by  professors,  and 
those  who  possess  typewriters  find  profitable  employ- 
ment in  copying  lecture  notes,  and  the  like  material, 
for  other  students.  The  average  pay  received  for 
such  work  is  ten  cents  per  sheet.  Previous  training 
in  military  drill  practically  insures  a  position  as 
commissioned  officer  in  the  University  cadet  corps, 
which  means  a  salary  from  the  University;  while 
the  chance  of  securing  the  position  of  University 
Master  of  the  Chimes  is  open  to  those  with  musical 
talent.  Mechanical  and  architectural  draughtsmen 
secure  from,  twenty-five  to  fifty  cents  an  hour 
for  their  work,  and  men  well  versed  in  some 
subject,  for  example,  a  foreign  language,  secure 
from  one  to  two  dollars  an  hour  for  their  time 
as  tutors. 

Most  of  the  tutoring,  however,  comes  to  the 
men  who,  as  juniors  in  exceptional  cases,  and  as 
seniors  quite  often,  secure  positions  as  undergraduate 
assistants  on  the  University  faculty.  For  such 
service  they  are  paid  from  one  hundred  to  five 
hundred  dollars  per  year  with  free  tuition.  Their 
duties  consist  in  grading  reports  and  examination 
papers  and  assisting  in  giving  instruction  in  labora- 
tory classes.  The  president's  report  for  the  current 
year  shows  that  some  one  hundred  and  forty-four 
students  were  employed  in  this  capacity. 

301 


At  Cornell 

The  business  career  of  the  exceptional  man  is 
often  remarkable.  One  student,  now  graduated, 
and  owner  of  a  manufacturing  plant,  came  to 
Cornell  with  thirty  dollars  in  his  pocket,  finished 
his  course,  and  left  the  institution  with  over  a 
thousand  dollars  capital,  earned  over  and  above 
his  expenses  while  a  student.  Nor  was  this  man 
older  than  the  average  undergraduate.  Another 
man  invented  a  new  style  note  book  for  student's 
use,  secured  a  patent  on  it,  and  it  made  an  immediate 
success.  Today  it  is  used  almost  exclusively  by 
the  student  body.  And  so  it  goes.  Many  other 
special  pursuits  could  be  mentioned  if  space  per- 
mitted citing  them.  Noteworthy  it  is,  however,  as 
the  foregoing  pages  will  bear  witness,  that  the 
"willing  to  work"  have  offered  to  them  many 
avenues  of  employment,  if  they  enter  Cornell. 


302 


Htnt^r  ^pflrt0 


Winter  i^pnrta 


CORNELLIANS  are  wont  to  fully  appreciate  the 
balmy  days  of  spring,  when  fresh  green  leaves 
again  peep  forth  from  the  swelling  buds  on  the 
elms  which  arch  over  the  Campus  avenues;  and 
they  also  respond  to  the  mad  invigoration  of  the 
Indian  Summer  time,  when  reds  and  yellows  paint 
the  landscape  with  warmth,  and  the  rustling  leaves 
underfoot  invite  to  gayety.  For  there  is  small 
quality  of  mildness  in  winter,  as  one  notes  that 
phenomenon  on  the  Cornell  Campus.  Fiercely  buf- 
feting winds,  whistling  around  the  corners  of  build- 
ings and  bringing  with  them  blinding  flurries  of 
snow,  which  piles  in  drifts  on  the  walks,  constitute 
typical  winter  at  Cornell;  and  one  realizes,  as  seldom 
in  other  seasons,  that  the  Campus  is  a  hilltop,  and 
gets  the  weather,  all  there  is  of  it,  and  gets  it  while 
it  is  being  made.  At  times  it  seems  as  though  the 
weather  man  were,  indeed,  experimenting  on  Cor- 
nellians,  for  the  changes  in  temperature  are  particu- 
larly astonishing,  one  day  mild  and  balmy,  the  next, 
bitter,  biting  cold.  And  cloudy — if  it  snows  anywhere 
in  the  cotintry  around,  Cornell  is  sure  to  get  her  share. 

SI  305 


At  Cornell 


But,  after  all, 
these  little  tem- 
pers of  the  win- 
ter weather  are 
only  minor 
considerations, 
something  to 
talk  about  in 
fact,  and  only 
bother  when  one 
has  to  get  up 
unpleasantly 
early  and  make 
an  eight  o'clock. 
As  for  the  rest, 
they  only  add 
zest  to  the  days, 
give  them  spice 
and  variety; 
moreover,  they 
furnish  the  snow 
and  the  ice 
which  in  winter 
are  the  main  incentives  to  participation  in  outdoor 
sports,  by  all  the  undergraduates  and  the  faculty 
as  well. 

These  winter  sports  center  mainly  around  Beebe 
lake.  This  little  sheet  of  water,  measuring,  perhaps, 
a  quarter-mile  in  each  dimension,  lies  just  off  the 
Campus,  and  in  a  hollow,  with  high  slopes  on  three 


(Central  Aurnup  —  Mint^r 


306 


Winter  Sports 

sides.  Its  situation  protects  it  from  the  wind, 
moreover,  its  shallowness  permits  it  to  be  frozen 
over  quickly,  ideal  conditions  both  to  promote  all 
skating  possibilities. 

The  ice  first  forms  early  in  December,  and 
generally  persists  until  mid  February;  but  there 
are  many  partial  thaws  during  the  winter. 

The  Minor  Sports  association  has  charge  of  the 
lake,  and  with  the  funds  secured  by  selling  skating 
and  toboganning  tickets,  maintains  an  area,  equal 
to  perhaps  half  that  of  the  whole  lake,  free  from 
snow.  A  portion  of  this  cleared  area  is  reserved  for 
a  hockey  rink,  for  the  use  of  the  teams,  the  rest  is 
available  to  the  University  community  in  general. 
On  Saturday  afternoons,  if  the  skating  is  good,  and 
the  weather  just  a  wee  bit  mild  and  sunshiny,  one 
is  always  sure  of  finding  a  great  crowd  assembled 
at  Beebe,  and  on  other  afternoons  of  equal  favor- 
ableness  the  numbers  are  diminished  but  a  little. 
It  is  a  pretty  sight,  and  one  that  invites  even  the 
most  sluggish  soul  to  participation.  During  Junior 
Week,  when  the  undergraduates  entertain  their 
feminine  friends  with  house  parties  and  dances, 
there  is  one  night  set  aside,  always,  for  the  Ice 
Carnival.  This  is  a  gala  occasion  on  Beebe,  for 
the  ice  is  specially  lighted,  and  a  canvas  walled 
enclosure  is  decorated  with  festoons  of  colors  and 
evergreens.  A  band  is  secured,  and  no  one 
knows  of  such  a  thing  as  fatigue  while  skating 
to  its  strains. 

307 


At  Cornell 

But  first  and  foremost  of  the  winter  joys  at 
Beebe  is  the  toboggan  slide.  A  merry  throng  always 
assembles  there  on  pleasant  afternoons  and  moon- 
light nights;  and,  although  every  few  seconds  a 
toboggan  load  of  shouting  coasters  goes  crashing 
down  the  ice  trough  of  the  slide,  yet  the  waiting 
line  at  the  head  often  lengthens  interminably.  The 
slide  at  Cornell  differs  from  those  in  many  other 
places,  in  that  it  is  not  banked  for  the  length  of  the 
course.  On  leaving  the  incline,  the  toboggans  shoot 
out  upon  the  level  expanse  of  the  lake  ice,  and,  if 
the  conditions  are  favorable,  have  momentum  enough 
to  carry  them  to  the  far  shore.  It  is,  therefore^ 
incumbent  on  the  steersman,  who  clings  to  the  rear 
end,  to  keep  the  flying  machine  headed  true  and 
straight  during  the  passage,  else  an  upset  is  certain. 
His  whole  body  often  extends  at  arm's  length  from 
the  rear,  like  a  rudder  on  an  airship,  only  his  shoe 
tips  scrape  along  the  ice  as  he  swings  from  side  to 
side.  The  steering  is  an  art,  not  learned  on  a  first 
experience,  consequently,  there  is  often  a  veer  from 
the  straight  course — the  toboggan  swings  sideways 
over  into  the  snow,  and  a  grand  spill  occurs,  when 
man  and  maid,  indiscriminately,  turn  summersaults; 
a  sight  which  affords  unlimited  amusement  to  an 
ever  present  crowd  of  spectators. 

Skeeing  on  the  hills  affords  the  most  exciting 
of  all  the  winter  sports,  and,  although  the  feats  of 
the  Comellians  who  indulge  in  it  do  not  rival  those 
of  the  Norwegians,  yet  the  ski  runners  who  come 

308 


»  a- 


1 


Winter  Sports 

hurtling  down  the  hill  behind  the  University  farm, 
take  some  interesting  leaps — and  tumbles — in  their 
course  down  the  long,  sunlit  slopes. 

Finally,  there  are  the  sleigh  and  bob-sled  parties, 
which  have  the  hotels  and  cotmtry  clubs  of  the 
neighboring  villages  for  a  goal,  with  hot  suppers 
and  merry  dances  appended — but,  as  the  roads  they 
traverse  are  often  dark,  one  can  only  surmise  the 
details  of  these  winter  frolics. 


At  tift  Qlobnggatt  Blibe  —  uI1|p  Watting  Hinr 


311 


aa^a  nf  llf^  Atljlrttr  %xU 


3T  IS,  PERHAPS,  only  natural  that  there  should 
be  an  exhuberant  reaction,  physical,  where  the 

action  is  of  the  impelled  intellectual  character, 
such  as  the  pursuit  of  prescribed  University  work 
imposes  on  every  student.  Thus,  there  has  been 
built  up  a  world  within  a  world  in  University  life, 
and  the  inner  world  is  athletics;  and  around  this 
inner  world  undergraduate  interest  centers  most 
intensely.  Yet  it  has  been  said,  that  despite  this 
interest,  too  many  students  take  their  athletics  as 
spectators  instead  of  getting  into  the  game;  but, 
while  there  is  room  for  improvement,  in  general 
this  is  untrue  of  Cornell  athletic  life,  for  one  need 
only  cross  the  Campus  to  come  in  touch  with  the 
breadth  of  its  scope,  and  the  general  participation. 

Several  years  ago  push  ball  seemed  to  show 
possibilities  of  affording  opportunity  to  the  great 
mass  of  students  to  take  part  in  a  game  which 
afforded  actual  strife,  and  physical  contact  with  the 
opponents;  and  in  the  desire  to  overcome  by  brute 
force  the  man  with  whom  he  is  matched,  may  be 
understood  the  keen  appetite  of  the  male  being  for 

315 


At  Cornell 

athletics.  And  when  one  sees  the  huge  ball  which  is 
the  "bone"  of  contention,  urged  and  worried  about 
the  drill  green  by  a  score  of  husky  youth,  of  an  eve- 
ning, after  a  day  of  confinement  in  lecture  room  and 
laboratory,  ones  limbs  fairly  tingle  to  get  in  and  help. 


i 

^^j'^^ffjS^^^^^Kj^^^^ 

.«i  ■?^-     ■^ 

L2""-*^- 

■i  1  »*■,.»  '.    —m-,   i_-i..  T^-fw 

[ 

'9ark"  tfoablrg  at  tl|r  Voard  Qlrarb 
316 


Phases  of  the  Athletic  Life 

Lacrosse,  with  all  its  dash  and  vim,  also  finds 
its  numerous  devotees  practising  on  the  Campus 
lawns  near  the  Armory;  but  probably  the  most 
familiar  phase  of  athletic  life,  and  the  one  most  apt 
to  greet  the  visitor's  eye,  are  Jack  Moakley's  white 
clad  runners.  Especially  picturesque  (or  perhaps 
unique  would  be  a  better  adjective),  are  these,  when 
one  meets  them,  clad  in  sleeveless,  low  necked 
shirts,  and  knee  length  linen  running  "pants," 
sprinting  around  the  board  track,  regardless  of  the 
snow  and  cold  of  a  bitter  winter's  day.  To  the 
uninitiated,  especially  to  the  feminine  eye,  this  is 
compellingly  novel  and  wondrous  fortitude.  And 
the  governing  center  of  this  activity  is  "Jack,"  as 
he  paces  from  point  to  point,  about  the  track,  seeing 
everything;  those  who  come  in  and  who  go  out, 
advising,  commenting,  admonishing,  as  may  be 
needed.  Without  his  figure,  the  scene  would  be 
incomplete — ^nor  would  the  Intercollegiate  cham- 
pionship in  Track  come  to  Cornell  with  such  regu- 
larity, to  say  nothing  of  her  impregnable  first  place 
in  cross  country  running. 

Inside  the  Armory  the  base  ball  cage  has  been 
draped  over  the  drill-floor,  and  ambitious  competi- 
tors are  already  busily  working  for  a  place  on  the 
team.  This  indoor  practice  affords  a  novel  spectacle 
to  many  "fans,"  and  prepares  for  the  visit  upstairs, 
where  the  crew  men  swing  rhythmically  to  their 
work  at  the  rowing  machines,  under  the  watchful 
eye  of  the  "Old  Man"  and  his  assistants,  the  cox- 

317 


At  Cornell 


A  Ijapiiu  (§rraaian 

swains.  "Courtney's  stroke"  has  never  been  super- 
seded or  rivalled,  either  by  the  ingenious  inventions 
or  the  muscle  of  Cornell's  opponents  on  the  water. 

Basket  ball,  hockey,  fencing,  hand-ball,  tennis, 
boxing  and  wrestling  all  have  their  adherents  and 
all  are  represented  in  the  activities  of  the  Gym- 
nasium and  in  the  Armory.  Truly  these  afford  a 
most  varied  field  from  which  to  choose,  and  offer 
little  excuse  for  non-participation  by  the  student. 

So  much  for  the  athletic  life  of  the  Campus. 
It  is  only  secondary  to  the  interest  which,  with  the 
years,  has  centered  at  Percy  field,     "Percy  Field 


318 


Phases  of  the  Athletic  Life 


Days;"  that  is  a  phrase  to  con j lire  with  when  in 
converse  with  Cornell  alumni ;  what  picturesque 
recollections,  even  the  mental  picture  of  its  environ- 
ment suggests.  The  white  arched  entrance,  and 
above  it  the  forest  covered  slopes  of  Deadhead  Hill, 
with  the  sand  pit  cut  in  its  face,  whose  summit 
rim  is  always  outlined  in  black  by  the  crowding 
figures  of  the  deadheads  assembled  to  see  the  game. 
Then,  looking  ahead,  there  was  the  field,  and  the 
thronged  stands  opposite,  while  in  the  distance  the 
greenery  of  willows  hemmed  in  the  scene. 

But  before  the  game  there  was  the  march  to 
the  field,  a  rollicking,  cheering,  snake-dancing  horde 
of  studes,  and  withal  an  impressive  sight,  with  the 
preponderant  mass  of  gray-capped  frosh  closing  in 

the  rear,  all  go- 
ing down  to 
cheer  the  team, 
and  help  Cornell 
to  victory  by 
their  enthusiasm 
and  devotion  to 
clean  sport,  her 
ideal.  Nor  were 
the  thunderous 
rolls  of  Cornell 
cheers  "  long 
ones,  "and  "now 
three  short 
cCourttwH  ani  tij*  cdoxHwaina  ones  "  anything 


319 


At  Cornell 


but  success  compelling,  as  the  sections   responded 
singly  or  together,  to  the  art  of  the  cheer  leaders. 

Supremacy  in  track  and  on  the  water  have 
become,  in  a  sense,  an  accepted  and  expected  fact 
at  Cornell.  In  baseball,  too,  while  not  champions, 
her  men  are  always  to  be  considered  in  the  fore- 
front when  making  up  the  standings.  Thus,  while 
there  is  a  zest  always  for  new  victories  and  fresh 


Courttwg  at  Ipau^ifkftpait 

320 


Phases  of  the  Athletic  Life 

laurels  in  these  domains,  it  is  for  the  premier  posi- 
tion in  football  that  the  undergraduates  have 
yearned  for  years.  Classes  have  entered  and  been 
graduated  without  that  coveted  morsel,  the  winning 
of  a  big  game  at  Ithaca,  falling  to  their  lot.  But  in 
nineteen  hundred  and  seven  the  ban  was  lifted,  and 
the  consummation  devoutly  to  be  wished,  a  knot 
in  the  Tiger's  tail,  securely  tied.    That  was  a  day! 

Probably  never  before  had  such  a  crowd 
assembled  at  Percy  field.  Fifteen  thousand  specta- 
tors crowded  the  stands,  and  those  who  had  no  seats 
were  packed  three  and  four  deep  around  the  field 
inclosure.  The  ball  was  in  Princeton's  territory 
practically  throughout  the  game,  yet  it  was  a  hard- 
fought  battle.  It  was  Cornell's  day,  and  everybody 
seemed  to  realize  the  fact.  From  stand  to  stand  the 
cheers  rolled  continuously,  only  offering  an  interlude 
occasionally  for  the  Princeton  supporters  to  make 
themselves  heard.  Again  and  again,  bursts  of  song 
came  almost  spontaneously,  and  there  the  hoodoo, 
which  seemed  in  the  past  to  have  been  attached  to 
the  thrilling  measures  of  the  Big  Red  Team  was 
lifted,  and  its  chorus,  full  lunged  and  lusty,  swelled; 
even  until  it  aroused  the  distant  echoes: 

Cheer  till  the  sound  wakes  the  blue  hills  around, 
Makes  the  scream  of  the  north  wind  yield 
To  the  strength  of  the  yell,  from  the  men  of  Cornell 
When  the  Big  Red  Team  takes  the  field. 

Yea,  yea, 
Three  thousand  strong  we  march,  march  along, 

321 


At  Cornell 

From  our  home  on  the  grey  rock  height, 

Oh!   the  victory  is  sealed  when  the  team  takes  the  field, 

And  we  cheer  for  the  Red  and  White. 

And  finally  time  is  called,  the  game  is  over, 
and  victory  ours,  and  then,  most  impressive  scene 
of  all,  comes  the  singing  of  Alma  Mater,  with  heads 
bared,  by  the  whole  throng  of  undergraduates, 
gathered  to  a  center.  Ah,  then  one  feels  the  spirit 
of  Cornell,  and  the  embodiment  of  the  ideal  for 
which  it  stands.  To  those  who  scoff,  and  deny  the 
existence  of  such  intense  devotion  among  the  class- 
men of  a  university,  one  need  but  commend  their 
being  present  at  such  a  singing  of  Alma  Mater. 

There  is  another  time  when  this  large  and 
living  loyalty  to  Cornell  finds  expression;  and  that 
is  at  a  "  meeting  of  the  team  "  at  the  railway  station, 
when  the  team  returns  from  a  contest  away  from 
Ithaca.  Whether  they  come  conquerors  or  con- 
quered, it  matters  not,  there  is  always  a  crowd  to 
welcome  back  those  who  fought  for  Cornell's  fame 
abroad. 

Perhaps  the  most  animated  scenes,  of  all  those 
which  mark  these  glimpses  of  Cornell's  athletic 
being,  are  those  which  attend  the  event  of  a  Memo- 
rial Day  Regatta  on  Lake  Cayuga.  Long  before 
the  scheduled  time  of  the  races,  a  dozen  fleets  seem 
suddenly  to  have  been  born  on  the  lake,  as  innumer- 
able craft,  row  and  motor  boats,  canoes,  sail-boats 
and  the  excursion  steamers  all  ply  their  way  to  the 
end  of  the  course.     Then  the  long  moving  grand- 

322 


W      S      *3 


tit 


s  s 

^1 


Phases  of  the  Athletic  Life 

stand,  the  observation  train,  comes  ptiffing  along 
down  the  shore,  a  hydra-headed  beast,  with  an 
engine  at  each  end.  Near  evening  patrol  boats  clear 
the  course,  but  still  the  wind  keeps  up  and  the  shells 
fail  to  appear.  It  conies  to  dusk,  the  wind-chopped 
sea  persists.  Spectators  become  restless.  The  more 
provident  bring  forth  lunches,  delectable  bits  of 
food,  seemingly  fit  for  the  gods,  at  least  that  is  the 
way  these  lunches  appeal  to  those  who  have  not 
been  so  foresighted.  Soon  little  bonfires  show  bea- 
con like  flames  all  along  the  steep  slope  of  the  lake 
front,  and  cast  a  lurid  light  on  the  waters  below. 
Finally,  at  eight  o'clock,  the  wind  abates,  slow,  oily 
swells  replace  the  choppy  sea,  and  the  crews  put  in 
an  appearance.  They  start;  the  observation  train 
rolls  along  thunderously,  with  engine  bells  clanging, 
suiting  its  speed  to  that  of  the  racing  shells.  Excur- 
sion boats  careen  dangerously,  as  the  hoarse  bellow- 
ing of  the  coxswains  announces  the  approach  of  the 
flying  racers  from  out  of  the  gloom.  They  pass, 
thin  black  streaks  filled  with  rhythmically-swaying 
figures,  whose  labored  breathing  one  catches,  ming- 
led with  the  steady  beat  of  the  oars. 

A  faint  cheer  announces  that  the  line  has  been 
crossed;  but  by  now  it  is  so  dark  that  only  those 
who  are  stationed  at  the  very  finish  can  see  who  is 
victorious.  Yet  everyone  is  happy  when  Cornell  is 
announced  the  winner — and  then  ensues  the  final 
scene  of  a  regatta  on  Cayuga,  an  almost  ludicrous 
streaming  back  to  Ithaca  on  part  of  all  concerned; 

325 


At  Cornell 

on  the  shore  the  rumbhng  train,  margined  on  both 
sides  by  a  crawHng  hne  of  pedestrians;  on  the  lake, 
steamers,  launches,  motor-boats,  sail-boats,  row- 
boats  and  canoes  all  mingled  in  a  great  confusion. 


326 


Qluatums  mh  Slrahtttntta 


OIu0t0m0  mxh  ^xnhxtxttm 


^JTHE  freshman  at  Cornell  certainly  has  an  easy 
IIL  time  of  it.  Hazing  is  not  known.  There  are 
simply  a  few  "don'ts"  for  him  to  observe,  and 
only  a  couple  of  "do's"  for  him  to  obey.  In  special 
cases,  where  he  affiliates  with  some  organization,  he 
may  be  more  sorely  tried,  but  what  follows  is  the 
sum  total  applying  to  the  average  first-year  man. 

He  must  wear  a  Frosh  cap.  This  is  a  flimsy 
gray  thing  with  a  black  button,  and  except  that  it 
singles  him  out  from  the  rest  of  the  classmen,  has 
no  more  odious  quality  than  the  impression  it  gives 
of  only  in  part  serving  one's  need  of  a  head  covering. 
But  lest  the  babe  catch  cold  in  winter,  when  icy 
blasts  sweep  across  Cornell's  hill -top  campus,  he  is 
permitted,  on  cold  days,  to  wear  a  toque,  covering 
his  ears,  of  the  same  gray  shade,  and  with  a  black 
tassel.  He  must  wear  a  coat  at  all  times  on  the 
campus.  His  other  duty  is  to  go  to  the  post-office, 
formerly  at  seven,  on  every  evening  of  weekdays, 
but  now  only  on  Sunday  morning,  for  the  mail  of 
the  fraternity  or  rooming  house  where  he  lives. 
The  "don'ts"  are  still  more  innocuous.     He  must 

329 


At  Cornell 

not  smoke  on  the  campus  at  all,  nor  may  he  smoke 
a  pipe  outside  his  house;  he  must  not  be  seen  at 
certain  resorts  unaccompanied  by  an  upperclassman, 
and  at  some  not  at  all,  and  he  must  not  occupy  a 
seat  in  the  first  three  rows  or  in  the  boxes  at  the 
Lyceum.  That  is  the  substance  of  the  law  as  it  is 
revealed  to  him  by  those  who  have  passed  on  ahead, 
and  that  he  may  not  err,  these  commandments  are 
printed  for  him,  with  other  wisdom,  in  a  "Bible" 
which  the  University  Christian  Association  publishes. 
There  is,  however,  another  hardship  that  the 
average  freshman  must  suffer,  unless  he  is  excused 
for  athletics,  and  that  is  "Drill."  It  comes  thrice  a 
week,  and  upperclassmen  are  the  company  officers; 


{ianarama  of  t^t 


330 


Customs  and  Traditions 

but  under  the  new  regime  some  of  the  stings  it 
formerly  contained,  seem  to  have  been  extracted 
and  indeed  the  freshman  comes  often  for  his  hay- 
foot,  straw-foot,  with  a  smiHng  face  now-a-days. 
Cornell,  as  is  mentioned  elsewhere,  owes  part  of  its 
endowment  to  the  Morrill  Land  Grant  Act,  and, 
under  the  provisions  of  this,  compulsory  military 
training  is  required.  Thus  Drill  is  indeed  a  custom, 
one  which  is  never  allowed  to  lapse. 

In  former  years  the  great  outburst  of  underclass 
rivalry  was  the  occasion  of  the  Freshman  banquet. 
Unorganized  rushes  often  occurred  in  the  night 
preceding  the  President's  annual  address  at  the 
beginning  of  the  term,  but   these  were  not  recog- 


Jfrfsljman  Saiiqiwt  Sual| 


331 


At  Cornell 

nized  and  are  now  practically  abolished.  The 
Banquet  rush,  in  a  legalized  form,  is  still  preserved, 
but  one  must  know  its  progenitor  to  appreciate  its 
present  status. 

The  original  Freshman  banquet  and  its  con- 
comitant activities,  meant  a  practical  suspension  of 
University  work  for  three  days  to  the  underclassmen. 
It  was  the  ambition  of  every  freshman  to  be  at  his 
class  banquet,  given  in  later  years  at  the  Armory, 
without  being  caught  by  sophomores  previous  to 
the  hour  of  its  occurrence.  If  caught,  he  was  held 
in  durance  vile  until  the  afternoon  preceding  the 
banquet,  and  then,  with  painted  face  and  clad  in  a 
costume  which  was  the  sophomore  conception  of 
the  height  of  the  ridiculous,  he  was  forced  to  march 
in  a  "peerade"  through  the  downtown  streets,  then 
up  the  hill,  around  the  campus,  and  finally  thrust 
unceremoniously  into  the  banquet  hall. 

Hostilities  began  three  days  before  the  time  set 
for  the  feast.  To  venture  from  his  room  to  go  to  a 
class,  or  for  a  meal,  meant  almost  certain  capture 
for  the  freshman.  Consequently  he  kept  inside 
during  the  day,  sneaking  out  at  night  for  food  or 
else  to  escape  to  one  of  the  neighboring  hamlets, 
until  the  night  preceding  the  banquet  night,  when, 
in  some  mysterious  way,  he  learned  of  a  trysting- 
place  from  whence  all  the  yet  uncaptured  "frosh" 
were  to  make  one  grand  rush  for  the  shelter  of  the 
Armory,  which  was  neutral  ground  during  all  this 
strenuous  period. 

332 


Customs  and  Traditions 

The  sophomores,  on  the  other  hand,  prowled 
around  in  httle  bands,  especially  at  night,  carr3ang 
ropes  and  capturing  and  tying  up  unfortunate  or 
venturesome  skulkers,  or  more  commonly  making 
raids  on  the  rooming  houses,  hauling  forth  their 
victims,  and  conveying  them  down  town  to  a  guarded 
hall  where  they  were  kept  prisoners.  An  especial 
effort  was  made  to  secure  the  freshmen  class  officers, 
and  to  prevent  these  and  the  speakers  from  getting 
to  the  banquet  at  all. 

Incidents  in  this  strife  at  times  assumed  an 
almost  spectacular  character,  as  may  well  be  imag- 
ined. Three  freshmen  ensconced  in  an  attic,  on  one 
such  occasion,  kept  up  a  two-hours'  fight,  warding 
off,  with  poles  thrust  through  the  dormer  windows 
and  the  trap  door  of  the  attic,  the  horde  of  sopho- 
mores, who,  supplied  with  ladders,  were  bent  on 
securing  them  at  any  cost.  Two  of  the  freshmen 
were  finally  caught,  but  at  the  cost  of  a  hole  chopped 
in  the  roof  of  the  house;  while  the  third  escaped 
by  breaking  through  the  ceiling,  dropping  into  a 
room  below,  and  sneaking  out  of  the  rear  of  the 
house.  On  another  occasion  the  rush  of  the  fresh- 
men for  the  Armory  was  repelled  by  streams  of 
water  from  fire  hose  which  the  sophomores  had 
coupled  to  the  hydrants.  Again,  the  freshmen 
president  once  succeeded  in  gaining  the  Armory 
stowed  away  in  a  flour  barrel  on  a  farmer's  wagon. 

These  contests,  though  rarely  resulting  in  any 
injury  to  the  participants,  won  the  disapproval  of 

333 


At  Cornell 


the  faculty  because  of  the  serious  interference  with 
University  work,  and  drastic  action  on  their  part 
resulted  in  a  total  omission  of  the  banquet  for  one 
year.  In  the  next  year,  however,  a  scheme  was 
concocted  which  eliminated  this  objection,  and  this 
plan  proved  successful  enough  to  warrant  its  con- 
tinuance. 

According  to  the  new  arrangement,  the  whole 
matter  is  the  affair  of  an  afternoon.  The  freshmen, 
in  squads  of  ten,  six  squads  at  a  time,  range  them- 
selves on  the  far  side  of  the  drill  ground,  opposite 
an  equal  number  of  squads  of  sophomores,  and,  at 
a  given  signal,  the  freshmen  rush  to  get  across  the 
sophomore  line.  If  they  are  successful  in  this,  in 
three  minutes'  time,  they  are  safe,  and  go  to  the 
banquet  unmolested ;    if  caught  and  held,  they  must 


334 


Customs  and  Traditions 

submit  to  decoration,  and  march  in  the  sophomore 
"peerade."  The  freshmen  who  escape  have  the 
privilege  of  going  back  within  the  hnes  to  rescue 
classmates  whom  the  sophomores  have  penned,  or  to 
capture  and  carry  off  to  the  Armory  any  sophomores 
who  are  within  the  enclosure.  Once  within  the 
Armory,  these  unlucky  sophomores  endure  the  same 
fate  as  the  captured  freshmen,  except  the  necessity 
of  exposure  to  public  view. 

The  incidents  of  such  a  rush  are  comical  in  the 
extreme.  Interest  centers  on  the  efforts  of  the  foot- 
ball stars  who  are,  of  course,  expected  to  do  big 
things,  yet  often  fail  ludicrously.  Again  the  erratic 
in  human  character  often  crops  out,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  freshman  who  clothed  himself  in  overalls  and 
then  smeared  himself  from  head  to  foot  with  crude 
petroleum.  He  expected  to  escape  like  a  greased 
pig  at  a  country  fair,  to  literally  slip  through  the 
hands  of  his  opponents,  or  to  be  avoided  as  one  flees 
from  the  unclean;  but  he  misjudged  the  temper  of 
the  sophomores.  Practically  the  whole  opposing 
squad  combined  on  him,  and  he  had  hardly  a  stitch 
of  his  oily  clothing  intact  when  they  marched  him 
away  captive.  It  was  restored,  however,  by  other 
garments,  smeared  with  tar  and  covered  with  feath- 
ers, and  thus  accoutred,  he  marched  in  the 
"peerade." 

If  Freshman  banquet  customs  have  been 
restricted  and  made  more  intensive.  Spring  Day 
festivities  are  every  year  becoming  larger  in  scale. 

335 


At  Cornell 

Spring  Day,  originally  May  Day,  exists  as  a  means 
to  secure  funds  for  the  Athletic  Association's  coffers. 
This  appeals  to  the  student  body  as  being  "worthy" 
in  much  the  same  manner  that  the  slogan  "clothes 
for  the  heathen"  arouses  the  ladies'  aid  society,  in 
church  circles,  to  undertake  a  fair.  And  indeed, 
the  parallel  runs  farther,  for  on  Spring  Day  "no 


Customs  and  Traditions 

change"  is  the  rule,  and  the  attractions  are  even 
greater  fakes  than  at  the  fairs,  if  such  a  thing  is 
possible. 

Each  year  the  nature  of  the  revelry  changes; 
the  trend  at  present  being  to  give  a  burlesque  on  a 
great  circus,  including  all  its  attendant  side  shows 
and  fakirs.    There  are  toy  ballons,  and  candy  stands, 


A  (Eajitiur 
337 


At  Cornell 


"»Ul  Olaft"  ?[|rahtng  tlf?  lUna  "ifraaii  ^rrraftr" 

cane  ringers,  and  pink  lemonade, — the  area  under 
canvas  compares  favorably  with  that  of  many  a 
show  of  national  reputation.  Where  all  the  para- 
phernalia, tents,  large  and  small,  seats,  barkers' 
stands,  posters  and  paintings  are  secured,  must 
always  remain  a  mystery  to  the  uninitiated,  but  the 
work  of  those  in  charge  is  certainly  well  executed. 

338 


I 


Customs  and  Traditions 

The  shows  themselves  are  screaming  travesties. 
The  Law  College  offers  a  mock  court,  and  in  its 
service  are  uniformed  policemen  who  hale  criminals 
from  the  crowd  and  bring  them  before  his  "Honor" 
for  judgement.  Registrar  Hoy  was  once  indicted 
for  incompetency  in  office,  but  the  jury  disagreed. 
The  Architects  have  shown  Ithaca  being  destroyed 
by  an  earthquake,  the  freshmen  made  much  of  their 
Paris  by  night,  for  men  only — a  birdseye  view  of 
Paris  under  the  soft  rays  of  an  electric  moon.  Stray 
dogs  to  whose  tails  a  multitude  of  colored  balloons 
have  been   attached  furnish  much  amusement   by 


A  "l^tevaht"  of  life  9raai( 
339 


At  Cornell 

their  frantic  and  puzzled  efforts  to  make  their  hind 
legs  connect  with  the  solid  earth.  From  ten  in  the 
morning  until  two  in  the  afternoon,  the  crowd  surges 
unabated;  and  then  the  show  ceases  and  the  Ath- 
letic association's  funds  have  been  increased  by 
several  thousand  dollars. 

Several  athletic  events,  in  which  Cornell  is 
participant,  are  generally  on  the  program  for  Memo- 
rial Day,  and,  as  success  comes  usually  to  Cornell,  the 
evening  of  that  day  is  marked  by  a  celebration,  con- 
sisting of  a  huge  bonfire,  with  speech  accompani- 
ments; the  library  slope  being  the  scene  of  these 
festivities.  The  one  spectacular  feature  of  the  even- 
ing, however,  is  the  emancipation  of  the  freshmen. 

All  the  year  they  have  been  dutifully  wearing 
their  gray  "frosh"  caps,  and  now,  with  only  two 
weeks  more  of  the  school  year  remaining,  their 
"froshdom"  is  declared  at  an  end;  and  this  great 
event  they  celebrate  with  boistrous  hilarity  in  the 
"Burning  of  the  Frosh  Caps."  Early  in  the  evening 
the  first-year  men  rally  at  an  appointed  place,  the 
class  fund  provides  fireworks,  Roman  candles,  colored 
fire,  and  crackers  in  quantities,  a  column  of  fours  is 
formed,  and  the  class,  numbering  generally  one- 
third  the  entire  college  enrollment,  moves  forward 
in  its  great  "peerade."  The  line  of  march  is  a  dizzy 
trail,  keeping  to  no  set  path  but  wandering  here  and 
there  over  the  campus,  as  fancy  strikes  the  men  in 
the  lead.  Coats  are  worn  inside  out,  shirt  tails  flaunt 
the  breeze,  trousers  are  rolled  high,  revealing  gor- 

340 


Si  /s    t*    u 

»  J?  s  " 

.5  ^      <« 


i*    «» 


©• 


Customs  and  Traditions 


A  spring  Bag  #tbp  ^Ifow 

geous  hosiery,  and  the  marchers  break  again  and 
again  into  mad  snake  dance  steps  and  runs. 

Eventually  the  procession  reaches  the  foot  of 
the  slope  and  then,  with  wild  yells,  they  advance 
on  each  side  of  the  fire  and  the  air  is  literally  filled 
with  a  shower  of  gray  caps,  tossed  high  into  the 
leaping  flames — and  the  "Frosh"  are  "Frosh"  no 
longer. 

The  Senior  singing  is,  perhaps,  the  custom 
which  most  eloquently  bespeaks  the  love  of  Cornell 
as  Alma  Mater  which  lives  in  the  bosom  of  every 
undergraduate.  Some  half-dozen  or  more  times  in 
the  last  weeks  of  their  college  life,  when  the  soft  balm 
of  early  June  pervades  all  the  hill-crowning  campus, 


343 


At  Cornell 

the  Seniors  gather  of  an  evening  on  th^  steps  of  Gold- 
win  Smith  Hall,  and  there,  in  the  twilight,  for  an  hour 
give  voice  to  the  Cornell  songs,  and  to  the  popular 
airs,  current  in  their  time.  At  a  distance,  in  a  great 
semicircle,  is  the  audience,  to  whom  the  voices  of 
the  singers  come  in  space-softened  chords. 

The  moods  of  audience  and  performers  alike 
change  with  the  songs,  but  through  it  all  there  runs 
an  undercurrent  of  feeling  that  they  are  but  spelling 
a  portion  of  their  farewell  to  student  days,  to  life  on 
the  hill,  to  Cornell  herself.  With  the  Senior  it  is  a 
sadness  of  regret,  lightened,  perhaps,  by  the  antici- 
pations of  the  future.     The  four  years  he  has  lived 


IJprituj  Sag  —  {Ll\t  IBarkfra'  i^tania 
344 


Customs  and  Traditions 


At  lift  If  oat  of  tiff  »aiif 

among  these  scenes  now  seem  but  a  fleeting  instant, 
in  time;  in  associations  they  are  as  though  they 
dated  from  the  beginning  of  things.  It  seems  un- 
natural to  be  going  away  from  Cornell,  without  any 
returning  again  to  have  a  part  in  her  affairs.  True, 
he  offers  himself  the  doubtful  comfort  of  a  visit,  but 
again,  he  thinks  of  alumni  he  has  seen  on  the 
campus  in  his  under-classman  days,  betraying  the 
air  of  a  stray  cat  with  no  business  in  those  parts. 
And  so  he  sings  out  his  longing  and  yearning  into  the 
evening,  taking  a  passionate  leave  of  the  familiar 
scenes  of  undergraduate  days. 


345 


At  Cornell 

In  the  audience  there  stirs  a  note  of  pity  for  the 
singers  that  they  must  go,  but  rising  always  above 
that  pity,  a  Httle  voice  sounds  incessantly,  carolling, 
rejoicing,  repeating  that  the  ego  of  the  audience  may 
remain  and  live  in  Cornell  days.  It  is  as  though  a 
reprieve  had  been  offered  this  being  present  at  these 
last  impressive  senior  rites.  And  then,  as,  at  the  end, 
the  sun  hovers  like  a  red  ball  on  the  ridge  of  the 
distant  hill,  and  the  words  of  the  evening  song  come 
tensely  but  softly;  there  is  registered  in  every 
undergraduate's  breast  a  resolve  to  live  in  those 
yet-granted  years  the  full,  true  life  of  a  Comellian. 
With  throbbing  heart  beat  he  listens,  and  murmurs 
in  unison  with  the  singers: 

When  the  sun  fades  far  away 

In  the  crimson  of  the  west, 
And  the  voices  of  the  day 

Murmer  low  and  sink  to  rest, 
Music  with  the  twilight  falls 

O'er  the  gleaming  lake  and  dell. 
'Tis  an  echo  from  the  walls 

Of  our  own,  our  fair  Cornell. 
Welcome  night  and  welcome  rest 

Fading  music  fare  thee  well, 
Joy  to  all  we  love  the  best, 

Love  to  thee,  our  fair  Cornell. 


346 


The  End 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


Series  9482 


"Sfeffi..*,.,, 


